I was waiting for a sunrise.  From the moment I entered the bedroom of our vacation rental and saw the east facing, lake-viewing balcony, I knew I would be waking up early one morning to capture a sunrise snapshot.  But the best laid plans as the saying goes, did not take into account my catching the dreaded summer cold.  And each morning when the lake loon cried out to the rising sun, my congested head stayed on my pillow.

Summer is the season we Midwesterners dream of through long icy winters and teasing glimpses of spring. Some even decline to enjoy our beautiful autumns by mourning summer’s end. There is so much to love about summer. For me, it’s the little moments of enjoyment. Sipping brewed ice tea I’ve  blended. Watching kids on bikes with tennis rackets or baseball bats heading to the school yards. Murphy, my golden and I wear matching smiles on our morning walks. Smelling the grass and flowers, feeling the breeze as we survey the lake on our walks.

It has been a long time since I felt compelled to walk to the lake to catch the early morning show. A lot of summer memories had been made since I had. Making real lemonade with my daughter, encouraging sprinkler fun as a win/win to my son. Fun for him, watered grass for me. Watching the kids play tee/soft/base ball on  summer evening. Enjoying it more than they probably ever did. Hot dogs on the grill. The delicious smell of a neighbor’s dinner grilling while on our evening walk.  And yes, even the music of the ice cream truck driving around the neighborhood. (I must confess I told my oldest it was just a music truck, and would bring him in the house to avoid the dinner spoiling treats. Imagine my well acted surprise when he informed me, around age 4, that the music truck also sold ice cream! Remarkable! Who Knew? I know, evil mom.)

So on this week-long vacation, at the up north location where we had spent so many happy times with our kiddos I wanted to watch a sunrise. This vacation, sans children was relaxing, and lovely. But, each day reminded me of each time we had all been together, scratching bug bites, riding bikes, and eating ice-cream.  So, on the last morning of the trip, when the loon’s call startled me from sleep I followed up on my plan.  I  tossed  on a cardigan over my night-clothes, slipped on sandals, grabbed my phone and headed out.  The short path from our back door to the  to the small northern lake was rosy with early light. The sky held more clouds than ideal, but still presented itself well. I started snapping pictures hoping for the definitive shot. And then, well then, I turned the lens on myself, in all my sleepy-eyed, summer cold, madcap hair, glory and snapped. And then just sat. And watched. And listened. And experienced. And breathed in a less than perfect lakeside, summer sunrise.

Summer’s are never perfectly perfect. Too hot or too rainy, to cold or too busy too short or too boring. But they are some what divine. Because every year, they’re just what we need. I’m just say’n.