Last night we ate dinner out by the fire pit in our back
yard. My belief is that it is the first
time we have done it this year. Up until
a few days ago the bugs were just too aggressive. Wet days in early summer brought hordes of
mosquitoes. But that was then, they have faded away now.
Pork finished on the grill, grilled yellow squash
and Spanish rice were the major portions of the meal. The food was pleasing to the eyes and the
aromas just a pleasure. Settling down for the meal around the glass patio table
the evening was warm but not humid, a nice change.
My children ate like the raptors they are. Maybe
five minutes lapsed. They ate the food that took an hour hurriedly. Eat and then off back to the electronic media,
no other choice for them. My wife took some coals from the Weber grill and
dropped them on wood that had accumulated in the fire pit. Our lot is surrounded by trees and thus we
like everyone else I know have a brush pile.
What can you do but burn it?
The branches and leaves caught quickly. I took the little blue tooth speaker and played
instrumental versions of Grateful Dead songs as the flames of the fire licked
at the night air. The smell of the
burning wood, the feel of sitting out in a chair in the yard, the sound of a
pianist noodling away on her rendition of Eyes
of the World, well these are the things of summer delight. It doesn’t get much better than this.
2 comments:
Your description of the boys devouring food like the raptors they are was perfect. Although if you were to ask them to describe us (my kids included)--we are the dinosaurs, holding on to each day, awaiting extinction. I can only hope that their children and grandchildren will take the time to uncover our footprints and document the evidence that we had once walked the earth (and grilled pork) before them.
Al,
Thank you for your comments. Dinosaurs or “old and in the way” they don’t see us a vibrant beings. The thing I worry about is what we will leave behind. So much of what I have created has been electronic. Eventually Google will collapse and my blog post will disappear. My photos are all digital, the ones I bothered to take. I don’t know what traces our generation and the generation behind us will actually leave.
I saw Doris Kearns Goodwin on Jon Stewart the other night and she was of a like mine. She opined that nobody journals anymore. Nobody writes ink on paper letters now. And a server can just be tossed into the sea to hide the contents on its media. Hopefully something will remain in additions to fading memories of a dinner out in the back yard.
Gmanitou
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