I would say that summer is an evocative time for memory...but lately, as I age...that seems to be the theme for all seasons...but it is the smell of the ocean...the feel of sand between your toes...the soft song of waves rushing the shore...a blazing July sunset...and the sweet sour taste of ripe blueberries...this symphony of the senses...that jars the old brain cells now...takes me back in a rush of memory of places and people...the very little me...and all subsequent versions...faces and laughter play over and over as I close my eyes...this is the joy of travel...I would say turning off the grind...but our world hardly allows that...maybe, mostly turning off the grind...there is always something magical yet humbling at a shoreline...the might of any ocean reminding you of your small space in the largess of the globe...and yet, reminding you of the infinite possibilities of it all...and then again...digging a teaspoon into deep dish blueberry pie...it all seems much simpler, this world...I am no longer navigating in a sea of relentless opinion and bitterness...I am just delighting in the sweetness of nature...just being Sherri Berry...just being...
