The Sounds of Summer

Thwap thwap thwap go the flip flops. I can hear them on my own feet, and on the feet of just about everyone else.

Crunch goes the pile of seashells at the high tide line on the beach when I walk across them.

The soft ba-dap ba-dap bad-dap of dog paws hitting sand, and the eventual sploosh of a Labrador gleefully bounding into the surf.

The chirping of the birds of the feeder. Just yesterday I saw the pair of cardinals again. She was resting on the deck railing while he went to the feeder. He took a single seed then hopped along the railing and placed it her mouth. Cardinals need to be seductive too, I guess.

The humming of the hummingbirds as they shoot by, flying upright in such a way that doesn’t seem aerodynamically possible.

The whooshing of the wind as we take the first topless doors off ride in the jeep. Followed by the crispy chomp into a sugar cone.

The low moan of a lawn mower somewhere in the neighborhood, followed by the fragrance of freshly cut grass.

The sizzle of burgers on the grill. Followed by the quick hiss of the bottle top on a cold beer bottle.

The soft sloosh of a sharp knife effortlessly slicing a watermelon, then the slurping of the juice before it inevitably ends up on my chin.

The sputtering as an outboard motor comes to life, followed by the high wail of turning the throttle all the way up.

Sabine’s diesel rumbling, then eventually it’s silencing as we turn it off and raise the sails. The sound is diminished, but the forward momentum is still there. It amazes me every time, still.

Waves gently lapping against the hull, the snoring from an afternoon nap on deck in the sun, and the satisfied sigh from a long stretch after waking from that nap.

The Darth Vader like inhalations off a regulator while underwater, and the gentle force of bubbles traveling upward and breaking the surface.