Ideas for a Sunset-Streaked Summer 🌅

Diary

May 26

Atop the rolling green that makes up the Flint Hills I wondered, what now? Friday, May 22, was the official last day of school. Unlike other years when I would be signing yearbooks, saying farewell to teachers, and hanging out with my friends, I looked over the Konza Prairie and took in my surroundings. The wind bit at my sun-kissed auburn hair and blouse. Nothing on the calendar and nowhere to be for as far as the eye can see. My newfound love for the countryside has blossomed in quarantine. Being cooped up has given me a greater appreciation for the great outdoors. And outdoors with hardly any people meant I could hike the winding trail that went on for miles and breathe in the crisp air free of cloth around my face. At the top of the viewpoint, the air became stronger and swirled around us in full gusts. I tilted my head back and just breathed - something so simple that we take for granted everyday. A spontaneous trip to my dad’s hometown of Manhattan, Kansas, brought a much needed change of scenery and all kinds of stories. Images of a young boy skipping stones into Tuttle Creek Lake were painted into my memory. My dad recalled “his cove” full of driftwood gnarled in all sorts of shapes, limestone, and little white snail shells scattered among the stones. When he wasn't riding on the back of motorcycles or sailing with his friends, you could find him in the peaceful cove down the hill from his childhood home which overlooked the lake. I have been reliving my childhood recently as well by riding my bike, jumping on the trampoline, flying kites, coloring, and reading. I have also used this abundance of time to keep pursuing my favorite passion: music. New songs are in the works!

After our day trip to Manhattan, we drove back to Turkey Hill, our country house in Oskaloosa. From the middle of the wilderness, I write to you. This weird sense of haunting possibility has washed over me and I don't know what to make of it. The thought that our worlds are as easy to flip upside-down as a flicking over a thimble dawns upon me. How one day our version of life can be changed just like that. My old version of reality for this summer looks much different than it does now. A major change is the cancellation of the arts camp in Michigan I was going to attend for songwriting called Interlochen. I still have hope that Stage Right Performing Arts will have their summer camps, but it will look a lot different than past summers. Now my plans consist of coming out to Turkey Hill more often and exploring not so faraway places. I want this summer to be about the beauty of just being. Appreciation is so powerful. Without traveling, here are some things I want to do this summer: