Schwinntastic Summer Mornings!

Waking up on summer Saturday mornings, the barrier between past and present is as thin and shimmering as heat radiating off of blacktop. The bedroom window is open to accommodate the cool morning breeze and the birds chirp their conversations loudly as if trading stock on their own feathered version of Wall Street.

Keeping my eyes closed, I imagine myself back in my childhood bedroom.. the one with the big yellow and white Waltex flowers and green carpet firmly worn from many years of foot traffic.  Back then there would be no question of sleeping in. I would wake up wide-eyed and anxious to begin the day. There were places to go and people to see! My child-sized feet practically skipped across the carpet as I raced for the drawers full of neatly folded clothing my mother had put away for me. Grabbing whatever was on top, there was no thought or care for fashion selection, I quickly dressed and bounded out the bedroom door. No time for bathing or showering in the morning, that ritual was reserved for much later - to wash away the evidence of a day spent outdoors, long after the sun had set.

A quick search of the house usually turned up my mother in the backyard, hanging the freshly washed sheets to dry in the sweet summer air. We spent hours playing among those damp cotton wonders. To my child's imagination, those sheets would become the billowy walls of mystical fairy realms. To this day, I have never smelled anything as sweet as laundry that has been dried by swaying in the gentle breeze.

After a quick breakfast of lumpy Cream of Wheat, I was out the door! My trusty Schwinn was my constant companion as I sped from one destination to another. I can only imagine the gleeful site of that mob of kids riding their bikes down the middle of the road, our numbers steadily increasing as we went from one friend's house to another, in search of the perfect activity to occupy our summer day.  The motorists might not have appreciated the (mostly) harmless gang of kids oblivious to lanes or rules of the road, but we didn't care. We were young and unafraid. The world belonged to us and we were eager to explore it!

Back then we didn't come home until the sun was setting and mothers all over the neighborhood could be heard calling their children's names from various front porches. Dinner was dished up and waiting on the table and we ate it cold (microwaves were something out of sci-fi movies at the time) as we replayed the day's adventures to our mothers through mouthfuls of peas and potatoes. Mumbled acknowledgments of "Mmm hmmm" were offered from Mom as we summarized our day, editing out the delinquent parts that would earn us a scolding or worse.

I was often asleep as soon as my freshly bathed head hit the pillow. None of the worldly worries that cause sleepless nights for adults could touch me back then. The world was ours and we appreciated every day that we were given to command it.

As my house begins to stir on this Saturday morning in 2010, I reluctantly leave behind the memories of tomboy summers and childhood abandonment. To quote a favorite author, "The world has moved on."  Well said, Mr. King! My girls wouldn't know what to think if they had a blood blister on the bottom of their foot.. I imagine they would freak out about it rather than curiously poke at it with a pin. Schwinns have been replaced with iPods and laptops and summer mornings pass them by as they sleep in. The magical golden morning sunshine has long gone when these modern teens join the world around ten or eleven in the morning, completely unaware of what they have missed.

I wonder what their memories will hold for them when they look back on their childhood. What will they have to recall in place of  freshly washed laundry hanging out to dry? What wonderment will they retell their own children in place of robin's eggs discovered in the hollows of the clothesline post, or flash mobs of children loudly singing pop tunes as they pedal down the middle of the road?

I somehow can't imagine iPod or Internet stories holding enough magic and charm to become timeless childhood memories recalled and retold, but I hope that they will recall their childhood with fondness when a bright summer morning comes calling.