Counting Seconds

Warm and windy summer nights are my favorite of all. Like the night Libby and I invented our game of "Gordon Lightfoot" - rolling in the grass to capture and recapture a shoe, the singer’s name our victory call. Or the night the family stayed in the yard long into the night, shooting our toy bow and arrow, for Frolic. Or the night Mommy gathered us on the foxhound kennel stoop, watching the approaching summer storm, teaching us to count the seconds between flash and rumble. These nights exist in the moment, unrepeatable. Standing alone like this, they become memories.