Summer's for us kids

"But I am like an olive tree growing in God's temple. I trust God's love forever and ever." Psalms 52:8

How can anyone doubt the goodness of God on a summer day? Smell the musky scent of greening corn as bumblebees buzz around the hosta stalks and orange lilies sway in a summer breeze. Pairs of purple martins twitter as they go about their housekeeping chores while others create diamond splashes on the lake, skimming low for a mosquito feast.

In the early morning breeze, the weeping willow rearranges her skirt and hummingbirds joust for control of their red feeders. Orange-red and bright pink geraniums take lazy naps in their pots on the deck, white clover beckons to the bees, and green apples mature on apple boughs. Blue hydrangeas bloom on the north sides of houses, catfish jump in the lake, and red blackberries ripen on their vines.

Fluffy, white clouds sail across expansive blue skies.

Spring calves rest on summer hillside pastures while the sorrel colt swishes his short tail and nuzzles his mama for breakfast.

Frisky squirrels play tag, and the neighbor boys play catch.

The kingfisher sits on the dock post scolding exercise-minded kayakers who paddle past him. The blue heron patiently wades and peers into the shallows for his morning meal. Ducklings file to follow Mama Duck while the pair of Canada geese queue their goslings between them to venture forth on a family outing.

The industrious ants keep their supply lines moving through the flower bed.

Honeysuckle wraps along the fences, perfuming evening breezes. Hungry spiders weave their webs between the wrought iron porch railings. Cabbage heads fatten, beans dangle, tomatoes ripen in the sunlight, corn tassels wave, and giant ferns relax in shaded glens beneath giant oaks along the paths at Trail of Tears.

The creek down the road holds shaded pools for wading children and schools of lazy minnows. Roses bloom big again after their spring surge of glory. The breeze sighs gently through big sycamore leaves.

An early morning fisherman patiently casts his line hoping to surprise a hungry bass, and tonight the whippoorwill down the road will call again to let me know that he's OK.

July is full of sights and smells and things to do:

Mowing and folks who take time to walk can smell the fresh-cut grass.

Floating on an air mattress.

Iced tea, night-bought ice-cream cones consumed with friends, juicy red watermelon slices, burgers on the grill. Backyard barbecues!

Splotchy summer rains that grow the crops, gardens and weeds. Quick showers that settle the dust and make the air smell fresh again. Summer electrical storms that light up the night sky.

Water skiing, canoeing on the Current River, riding horses just before dusk, little league games, summer concerts at the park, catching fireflies in a jar, swinging in the porch swing.

Kids, kids, kids. Kids on tot lots. Kids chasing the ice cream truck. Kids swimming in the pool. Kids shooting off fireworks. Kids shooting hoops at the park. Kids riding bikes. Kids fishing. Summer vacation. No school -- just kids around the neighborhood.

And I think God must have had all of his kids in mind when he created summer. I think he grinned big when he cranked out July.

June Seabaugh is a member of Christ Church of the Heartland in Cape Girardeau.