I have never in my writings been a big fan of giving out advice; but I have found some notes, taken in my early years, that I would like to share. They could be useful to children of today that find themselves in a similar position, as they reach their last day of summer.
I jotted these regrets—and lessons learned—when I was ten…
I wish I had remembered to get the address of every friend I made this summer before they left.
I wish I had made ice cream, the old fashioned way, just once.
I think that the last days of August are made for a last good swim… so get in!
Before the new school year starts, get up in the morning and watch the sun rise through a fog.
Make a card for your teacher welcoming her back for school; it may give you that little edge to pass spelling.
Thank your mom for letting you camp in the hammock for one more night.
Take one last good look at the thick green of a leaf; rip it along the spine and experience that ripe green smell you won’t enjoy again for eight months.
Find all your father’s tools you left in the woods, before they get rusty and frost covered.
While you’re in there, take one last drink from the creek.
Eat an extra ear of sweet corn.
Enjoy a great big helping of warm Rhubarb over vanilla ice cream.
Lay in the green grass after the dew burns off, knowing you will not hear the buzz of any biting fly.
And while you lay there, think about how great it would be if they were to cancel school another week or two. Maybe some water leak needs fixing, or a painting project isn’t quite finished.
But most of all enjoy your friends when you meet back up for class. Tell them how you like their new clothes.
Explain every detail about your many journeys into the woods.
Start a book about it and place it under your pillow.
Get the pants you stuffed under your bed a month ago, the ones you wore on that fishing trip. But don’t wear them to school till the dog stops staying away.
Last but not least, six months or sixty years from now, remember how nice it was to do all these things.
Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Inlet. ltmitch3rdny@aol.com