Sweet Rides of Summer

To be a kid on a bike is to lean into childhood, wild and free. And you don’t get that from a video game.

Some summers are sonnets, some summers are grand slams.

I see summer, as Colette once said, in a ripening peach.

If we’re lucky, summer is always in our hearts.

Some summers the memories pile up, one after the other, like a July 4th potluck where there isn’t enough space on the red-checkered table.

Some summers you eat through.

Some summers you sleep through.