Summer—But Not All At Once
Grandfather (right), grinning next to the crab pot.
Grandmother and grandfather (left), dresses and ties out on the bay (Chesapeake).
Me, squinting and getting a sunburn.
Maryland Crab Cakes
It was immediate. A meditation on Summer followed.
The blueberry hit my tongue and there it was. I was tasting Summer. Sweet. Sour. Musky.
I sat their quietly. It didn't take long before I could feel the dampness of the earth beneath my seat. Fresh grass clippings caught between my fingers. Leaves rustling overhead.
My hair smelling of chlorine. My shoulders flaking with sunburn.
The memories start to flood like crabs trying to escape the crab pot.