Summertime

And the livin's easy. Yes, we've had hot weather Down South -- and smoke from distant, burning fires -- but the heat and the humidity haven't grown fangs and gotten ugly . . . yet. We've been enjoying the last green burst of spring before it does.

We haven't moved into the new house yet, either, but I've staked out my corner of the porch. Amid the table saws and scrap wood, I've plunked down my yard chair recliner where the sweetest breezes come off the lake. Not long ago, we purchased two fancy reclining chairs for a good price at Target. Sitting in one of those things is like laying in a hammock with lumbar support. Very comfy. I like to take the recliner out to the porch, sit down and slide back, reach perfect elevation, and read whatever's at hand. I just finished Steve Callahan's incredible survival story, Adrift, about 76 days at sea in a rubber raft. Talk about totally transporting reading. In the recliner, I'd read for a while, take a swill of my ice water, listen to the birds, check out the lizards sunning on the porch, go back to my book. Repeat until it's time for a nap. Sitting on my corner of the porch, I feel like I'm melting into a puddle of peacefulness.

Yesterday, my husband and I took a walk through the woods to my grandparents' place, across the lake. It was a nice day with a fetching breeze. I was amazed by the ruffles of leaves on the oak trees, the magnificence of green. I love the shape of the scrub oak leaves, post oak, too. In late spring, they are tender and so green. During our walk, I realized we must have 4-5 species of oak here, including several I don't know the names of yet. May I live here long enough to learn the names of all the trees, flowers and living things.

On Saturday, my husband worked hard all day moving things from my grandfather's barn into an old truck box he set up as storage unit. He came home hot, sweaty and tired and suggested we take the small pontoon boat out for a swim. We suited up, took the farm truck down to the lake, and clambered aboard the pontoon with our old dog, Brody. Ed set up the trolling motor and slowly steered us away from shore. The old pool ladder we planned on using to board the boat after swimming didn't work out; it didn't hang low enough in the water and was hard on the knees. Fortunately, Ed discovered another ladder on the roof of the pontoon and hauled it down. He strapped it to the side of the boat and we had a new ladder that worked great. We dove into the refreshing water and splashed about. An inner tube would have been handy, something to hold onto. We got our exercise. Brody watched from the boat since we didn't have a way for him to re-board. After our dip, we sat in the sun and breeze on the deck, soaking it all in. This was the first time since we moved to Florida that we had been in the lake. Amazing.

"Look at this place," I said, gesturing to the green, pine-bordered shore, the few houses set among the trees, the achingly blue sky swiss-dotted with clouds. "You get a whole different perspective from out here. This place looks like a resort. And we live here!"

My husband smiled and nodded. Yep. Amazing.