It’s Tuesday after Labor Day, and I’m thinking about the summer.
My family got to spend a week together at Edisto Beach, South Carolina. Never heard of it? It’s a small island between Charleston and Savannah. Lynda and I made the 7 hour drive to my hometown with James Taylor singing, “In my mind I’m going to Carolina….” We picked up my mother, headed south, and for a week Carolina wasn’t just in my mind, it was all around me.
When I was a kid, my Dad got one week vacation a year, and we always went to the beach. Mom reminded me that Edisto Beach was their favorite. It’s a place stirs a lot of memories.
I don’t actually remember this, but that’s my Dad and me in the water at Edisto my first summer. Six months old and he’s teaching me to ride the waves.
A few years later my uncle Leon would teach me to float on my back. “Focus on your toes,” he instructed. “Make sure your toes are sticking up out of the water and the rest of you will float.” That lesson happened in the salty water of Edisto Beach.
Ah, summer, where have you gone?
When James Taylor wrote Carolina In My Mind it was 1968 and he was homesick while living in England. Looking back on summer, I understand.