Summer sounds

sprinkler watering grass in summer

I’m happily slurping a popsicle when a wasp suddenly buzzes too closely by.

“Eeee!” I squeal, dodging to evade a sting that would surely mean near death.

“Shush,” says Mom. “If you sit still, it’ll go away.”

She’s right of course; the drone of the pesky insect soon fades into the distance. Dry grass scratches under the beach blanket as I wriggle back into a comfortable position beside her. I try not to think about the grasshoppers (ick), despite the steady whir of their raspy wings.

Mom slaps more suntan lotion onto her legs, the bottle splatting out a slurpy burp as she squeezes out the last bit of cream. She hums along, slightly off-key, to the sad-sweet harmonies of “Seasons in the Sun” crackling over our tinny portable radio. Her bathing suit snaps against her skin when she makes an adjustment. Ice cubes clink in her lemonade glass.

“Pfft pfft pfft pfft.” The neighbour’s sprinkler stutters, its water droplets pattering onto the sidewalk. A car whooshes up the street, inciting the yippy dog next door to yammer its indignation. A sweet little bird song wafts down on the breeze.

I hear the dull buzz of a lawnmower somewhere in the distance, punctuated occasionally by the delighted squeals of neighbourhood kids at play. The springs of a screen door creak slowly open, followed by a quick shut-slam.

“Oh there you are!” exclaims my best friend Heather. “Wanna go over to the schoolyard?”

“Can I, Mom?”

“You may. But be back in an hour please. And be careful crossing the street!”

“Slap, slap slap.” Our flip-flops flap as we run to the playground. We scrape the metal latch of the gate open, leaving it to clang shut behind us.

“Let’s do the big swings!” I shout.

The rusty chains creak, squeal and moan like braying donkeys as we pump higher and higher. Our two swings create a squeaky syncopated symphony, drowning out all other sound but the swish of the wind around my ears.

“Wheeeeee!” This time my squeal is one of pure delight.

Enjoy summer,

 

image credit: Robert Couse-Baker, flickr

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