Those Summer Nights

As the Austin evenings have grown warmer, the bugs have grown louder. And I'm perfectly fine with it. To me it's a true sign that Summer has arrived. Maybe not on the calendar, but in the memory of my adolescence.

Up until I was corrected about 10 years ago, I used to think the lovely chirping came from some sort of a cricket. It's actually the male Cicadas (http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cicada)
singing their nightly ballad. I like to think it's just for me.

During my 25, going on 26 Summers here in Texas, a good portion of them were spent at Balcones Woods pool. I would attend swim practice as early as 8am and literally stay all day. Some form of lunch was usually bummed off one of the Lifeguards (Doritos or an Ice Cream Sandwich) but if we were lucky, they'd go to Taco Bell or Schlotsky's and share some of their treasured fast food with us, the "pool rats".

The afternoons were usually spent napping on lawn chairs playing Truth or Dare or the forbidden game of "Buns Up" behind the tennis courts- at which point most kids would get hungry enough to go home for dinner. Not me.

I stayed until the last Adult Swim whistle blew at 8:50pm, when the skies became dark and the pool lights came on. That's when the summer bugs sing.

I still think about it every single time I hear them... About the care-free days in the sun with nothing to do except swim. The whole Summer was mine, to do with it what I wanted- and that was be at the pool, day and night.

I remember the intense feeling of freedom I'd get during the evening of the last day of school... sitting by the pool as the sun went down, knowing I had the next 3 months all to myself. It was truly priceless. And I realize that now more than ever.

I push the guilt I feel aside during my recent adult Summers- during all those Monday-Friday office hours I spend inside under fluorescent lights. The window I sit next to offers a view of the blue sky under which my instincts tell me I should be lying in a lawn chair eating an Otter Pop (green is my favorite).

I daydream of putting on my bikini rather than office attire each morning. I have more outdoor towels than bath towels. I have multiple designated "pool bags" that are always ready to go, given that I make time to be by the water on my Saturdays and Sundays.

But considering today is only Tuesday and I was not in my bikini at all, my interaction with the Summer Bugs was on my evening drive on Mopac. I opened the windows and lowered Lady Gaga for once, just so I could hear their song. They offer me a sort of peace, a version of freedom through my nostalgic attachment to their annual impression on my younger self.

So here's to the nights we felt alive, the Summers I can't get back, and the people who made my childhood great. Oh, and to you, Summer Bugs ;)