Living in Teal: The Summer

Summer... I am sure for many of us,

this word triggers flashbacks of childhood,

when summer was the most carefree existence

we have ever experienced -- or ever will.

Most of my favorite memories

are with my dad and mom and brothers and sisters.

During those hot, California days...the primary things we loved to do

involved the water, the woods, and adventuring to new places.

THE POOL

The pool was "fun" in toy-filled, splash-filled H2O!

We'd

skim the smooth bottom of the pool in the quiet and cool

scream as Daddy splashed us with his famous canon ball jump

cheer at Mommy's graceful dives off the board

spin the baby around in his or her floaty tube

gulp tummy-loads of water when Peter turned the pool into a
sea of whitecaps using his kick board technique

laugh ourselves silly slipping and sliding in and out of our blow-up boat

Rachel, Anna, Peter, and Kersti in our pool in Sacramento

spin in the air over Daddy's head as he made us into a helicopter

before we flew into the water
shiver with blue lips in a big beach towel as we tried not to
fall through the plastic slats on the lounge chairs

savor an apple juice popsicle after our swimming was done...
making our lips even bluer

doze on our tummies on the pavement, feeling the sun evaporating
the water drops on our backs...

THE OCEAN

The ocean was "joy" on foamy, cold,
exhilerating, sandy Santa Cruz coastline!

We'd

run into the waves as far as we dared and stand there, sinking into the sand as the waves crashed up the beach and rushed back again

watch for little bubbles in the wet sand after a wave in hopes we could dig faster than the little crabs that made them and make a capture

build sandcastles, wind barriers, or sand sculptures,
caking our knees and hands with coarse, gray sand

lie on beach towels, napping or reading, trying to thaw our icy toes
and avoid sand getting blown into the eyes
jump-rope using the long strands of kelp that washed up on shore
listen to the squawking seagulls overhead, the barking of the seals under the wharf, or the wind-muffled screams from roller-coasters
at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk

Sea Bright Beach in Santa Cruz - Anna and Andrew

boogie board when it wasn't too freezing (or go on a trip to Mexico with Grandpa and Grandma and go crazy over the warmer, milder waves of Puerto Vallarta!)

12-year-old Anna discovering a love of boogie-boarding in Mexico

MISSION SPRINGS

Tucked away in the Santa Cruz Mountains, Mission Springs is a Christian conference center begun by a group of Swedes, which included my mother's ancestors. This is where my grandpa grew up, my grandma came to summer camp...and where they met. Many Swedes in the congregation built little Scandinavian summer houses on the property where they and their families could migrate for the hotter months. My family's little cabin was named Heritage Hus, built years ago by my great grandfather and his son-in-law-to-be, my grandpa. It is well-named. It has truly created a rich heritage.

Heritage Hus

This place is surrounded by redwood forest, ravine after ravine, with wild bay laurels, ferns, and blackberry brambles. We'd spend our summer's there, escaping the heat under the canopy of conifers, with the beach only twenty minutes away.

What an impression it's made on my life! It's why I love the forest. It's why I love the sound of wind in the trees and echoes across foothills. It is why I love trails, building forts, and discovering new plants and birds. It is, I think, why I take to the Vancouver Island so much, with the mountains and ocean always within my reach.

We'd

wake up to the sound of squirrels bickering in the branches and blue jays chattering as they flew through the morning fog

Electric blankets at the cabin - best thing every invented - Peter, Kersti, Anna
We'd
fly down the trails we discovered, like frisky deer, naming each twist and turn "inventive" names like "slippery slope" or "rock slide"
scavenge the blackberry bushes for the juiciest berries to bring home for Grandma or Mommy to make a pie or a cobbler
race each other down the bumpy old trail that led to
the community camp pool

Blackberry pie for dessert - Rachel, Kersti, Mom, Anna, Peter

We'd

play "house" under the deck, using pine cones for potatoes, an old mail box for a refrigerator, grated chalk rock for flour, and abalone shells for dishes

spy on the camp kids along the trails and try to skirt the activity unseen

hike down to "The Flat", the level portion of the conference grounds, where the playground, basketball court, and ping-pong table were to be found

Baby Anna at The Flats
We'd
come back at the days end dusted with a layer of that fine, gray dirt that covered the forest floor, with globs of fir sap in our hair
devour yummy feasts Grandma would prepare on the big deck out back