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It’s only four more days until the end of summer. I watch the thermometer drop degree by degree and the days shorten minute by minute. I am reminded of things that made summer so wonderful. Little things I will miss. Things I may never do again, not in the fall, winter or spring, but only on a wonderful summer day.

Early morning just after the sunrise. An open window. Sunlight filtering through the blinds. A breeze pushing at the curtains. Birds perched on branches in the birch tree, chirping a wake up song.

Lying on the carpet in front of the television for an hour watching cartoons, wearing my light cotton pajamas with the faded flower pattern.

A late breakfast of Cheerios in milk with a teaspoon or two of sugar mounded at the bottom in the bowl.

A bike ride over uneven sidewalk squares down the block to my friend’s house to ask if she can go to the pool in the afternoon.

In the park, stopping at the mammoth swing sets with the thick metal chains and black seats made of durable plastic. Pumping and swinging so diligently, so methodically, so hard the swing extends fully out and up, horizontal to the top of the swing set. A second to decide to jump.

The pure joy of hearing the tinkling music of the ice cream truck a block away. Push up. Bomb pop. Drumstick. Ice cream sandwich. A difficult decision on an easy day.

Rushing through dinner with the family because every minute spent outside is never enough time.

The thrill of hiding behind a bush next to the neighbor’s porch, waiting for the right moment to jump out, kick the can and free my friends from jail.

The first street light flickering on, knowing Mom will soon call me home.