...at least for our family it is. My kids go back to school next week, so today marked the unofficial last day of summer.
It hardly felt like summer arrived and now it's gone. This summer seemed more like a movie trailer rather than the full length feature--it was fun, but just flashed by. I love summertime (see my post here as to why) and I'm sad to see it go.
The Beach Boys' "We've Been Having Fun All Summer Long" seems like a good soundtrack for today.
This song includes one of my favorite lryics from a song, ever:
"Remember when you spilled Coke all over your blouse?"
I love a good obscure or sharply personal reference in a song, don't you? Brian Wilson was the master of it.
I took the picture above in Corona del Mar. It is one of hundreds of submissions from photographers from around the world to SkyWatch Friday.
The Irvine Spectrum is the closest thing Orange County has to a downtown. Not the old fashioned kind of downtown with hardware stores and pharmacies, but the new kind with piped in music, designer dogs in sweaters and a Pink Berry.
The ferris wheel at the Spectrum is one of my favorite images to capture in OC--day or night, it's spectacular.
Today I'm listening to Joe Jackson's "Steppin' Out" in preparation for the OC Blogger Ball tomorrow night in Anaheim. I'm wearing a black dress and everything.
The Balboa Peninsula is one of my favorite places in Orange County to wander with my family and take pictures. With the heat wave bearing down on us, I thought this photo I took as the day cooled down would bring some relief. It was one of those perfect nights on Balboa.
I took this photo at the Bolsa Chica Wetlands. These women sat on the bench to rest after walking just a short distance from the wooden bridge. From far away I could tell they were old friends. They would grab each other's arms when they laughed and they laughed almost the whole time.
As I got closer I tried to eavesdrop for you, as you expect me to do, but all I heard was one say to the other, "I wouldn't mind leaving," and with that, they didn't say another word and both got up and walked back across the wooden bridge.
I love to include Orange County skies in with all the other skies from around the world in SkyWatch Friday.
This is my SkyWatch Friday photo for the week. I thought the happy, blue sky would be a welcome sight for some readers in parts of the world that are having dreary, grey skies. Happy Friday from Balboa Island in Orange County.
About fifteen minutes before this breathtaking sunset, I stood next to three people at the bottom of a small hill. It was an older couple--same age as my parents, about sixty-five--and their adult daughter. The daughter was explaining to them how far the walk would be to get to the beach. "Just up this little hill and to the right," she urged them. "There are benches up there where you can relax and watch the sunset," she suggested as she polished the lens of her camera with her sweatshirt.
The older woman clutched her cardigan sweater at the neck and looked up at the hill through squinting eyes. She was thinking about the walk--comparing the effort made to the reward. The man didn't look up, he quickly said, "I think we should go wait in the car." The older woman looked down at the ground and nodded in agreement.
"Just up this small hill," said the daughter, pointing up at the hill again in an attempt to get her dad to look at it.
"No, just give us the keys and we'll wait in the car--you go," he said, as he helped his wife put her arms through the sleeves of her sweater. The daughter, who seemed accustomed to this decision, dug around in her purse and handed him her car keys. She didn't say anything to them after that, just turned quickly toward the darkening horizon and started up the hill with a gait of reproach.
I watched the couple walk slowly toward the parking lot. It was an effort for them to walk, even at a slow pace. Yep, it was an effort. As they walked they didn't say a word to each other. He opened up the door to the mini van and helped his wife in the back seat. Then he settled into the passenger side and there they sat until the sky was completely dark and their daughter returned.
I told my husband the story later in the car home. I wondered how many times in their life they decided not to try--not even make an attempt up the hill. Is that why they were so frail at such a young age? I don't know them, maybe some medical tragedy has come on them both. But, I got the feeling as I stood there observing the scene--their unwillingness to even consider walking, their daughter's quick surrender, their solemn cloud--that theirs was a lifetime of deciding to sit in the car.
While we talked about it in the car, my husband broke away and said to the kids who weren't paying a lick of attention to our conversation, "You know how Mommy and Daddy are always making you guys try something new? That's really important."
Our daughter nodded while she continued coloring and our son stopped playing with the shells in his hands, looked up and said, "Are we going to do something new right now?"