In my memory, the 4th of July epitomizes summer–a pause in the year, a moment when it seems summer could last forever. Yesterday, we went to the annual birthday gathering of our friend Max, born on the 4th of July. Again, this year, his extended ranch family came to his cabin outside Fairbanks to grill and tell us ranch stories. It’s remarkable to be among them, since so many of us in the Interior have settled far from extended family. Their voices are the same; they know each other’s stories by heart; they tease and look after each other.
Whether or not you follow politics or are drawn in by the red, white, and blue everywhere, this mid-summer holiday has sounds, tastes, smells that mark it: the acrid smell of exploded firecrackers, the taste of watermelon, the sound of birds and insects in the evening air. Pick a small detail of your day and mull on it, create it new, without sentiment, but observed in detail. Share it in the comments and I’ll post it here.
Mattie's Pillow 