introduction Im madly in love with summer and the feelings it evokesthe carefree spirit of freedom and adventure that fall, winter, and spring simply dont provide. Summer entices us to lose our inhibitions, to have fun, to be curious, and to seek adventure. We are joyous upon its arrival in June and bittersweet as it fades into September. Summer is fabulous, but fleeting. Ive had the good fortune to spend many summers in places other than my real home. As a child, my family spent the season in an old beach bungalow on the Jersey shore. Looking back, it seems to me that we spent every waking moment outdoors at the beach during the day, kite flying after dinner, at miniature golf or on the boardwalk in the evening. In the early mornings, my fatherwhom Ive never seen happier than when he has a fishing pole or crab net in his handswould bring us to the pier, where wed drop the crab nets into inky waters, ever impatient to pull them up and see what we caught. Hours later, wed return home with buckets of blue crabs, which my mother would magically turn into a delicious crab salad. My mom loves to tell the Annie Hallesque story of the wily crab that went on the lam across our kitchen floor, eventually finding safe refuge behind the stove. Alas, his freedom didnt last for long; after much bedlam, my parents somehow managed to extract him from his hideaway and get him into the steamer pot. As a young woman, I frequently spent summer weekends with family friends in their fabulous home nestled in the woods of Marthas Vineyard. Wed wake up at sunrise and cook pancakes and sausages outside on the grill, then head off to the beach, where wed spend hours combing the sand for sharks teeth, shells, and beach glass. On special evenings, wed drive their jalopya 1969 Dodge Dartto Menemsha, where wed crack open freshly cooked lobsters and watch the sun set. What wonderful, effortless days those were. My passion for the outdoors led me to Maine, where I summered for many years on a quiet cove in ruggedly beautiful Bar Harbor. Down East I braved frigid waters, hiked endless wooded paths, and biked along meandering carriage trails shaded by an awning of pines. Exhausted from whatever the days activities were, Id reward myself with a hearty lobster roll or a bucket of steamers, then drift off to sleep to the rhythmic sound of the ocean. Lest you think Im only content breathing in salt air, rest assured that I equally adore the clean, pure scent of fresh water. My love affair with lakes began at a friends cabin in the Adirondacks. A natural gathering spot on long weekends, wed paddle canoes, water-ski behind a balky old powerboat, drift aimlessly on a pontoon, or lounge on fat tire tubes. After years spent on the ocean, the lakefront lifestyle was a delightful new experience of slithering fish, slippery green rocks, and no undercurrents. As quaint as it might seem, at days end wed all gather around a campfire to roast marshmal Excerpted from Summer: A User's Guide by Suzanne Brown All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
