Fireflies & Ropeswings...

...are a sure sign that summer has arrived. I'm in Sheperdstown, West Virginia right now, staying with my dear friend Pamela. We met while studying/volunteering together in Ecuador, and the good old days of interviewing indigenous tribal leaders about petroleum exploitation and fishing for piranha in the Amazon have been replaced by somewhat more domestic pleasures, entirely different but equally blissful.

(<-- us in Ecuador 2 years ago) Yesterday Pamela picked me up from a metro station in Maryland, where I sat waiting in the shade, sticky from the sweltering 95* heat (and, not realizing it actually WAS a million degrees out, feeling rather wimpy for not being tougher about the humidity). We slapped a bike rack on her car, loaded up Moby, and headed out of suburbia for the rolling green hills of West Virginia. Thank God. I admit I'd readjusted to being in the city, and there's a certain amount to be said for the opportunities one finds in the urban setting. Still, after so many miles of open country on this trip, I've realized how mmuch I just yearn to be outside in the unadulterated beauty, away from the chaos of the Concrete Jungle. Pam teaches a couple ballet classes a week to 3-5 year olds, and I went with her to nearby Charles Town to watch. How fascinating to see kids at an age where they have to concentrate so hard to make their bodies do what their minds want them to! It's been a while since I've seen such intent looks of concentration -- complete with furrowed brows and tongues sticking out at awkward angles -- and all to have 0.2 seconds of glory as each little girl attempted a flailing leap over a synthetic rose on the studio floor. Evening brought even more delight... we met up with Pamela's roommate Emma, boyfriend Carl, and Carl's friends from the river rafting company he works at, all outdoorsy types. Even though it was after 7, the heat was still rather stifling. We walked 2 miles up the C&O Canal path, glad for the shade of the dense trees lining both sides. Carl strummed on his guitar as we strolled, breathing in the sweetness of blossoming honeysuckle. Our destination: a choice ropeswing into the Potomac River. A friend had phoned Pamela earlier in the afternoon with the news that he'd been working on some improvements to the swing, namely a sturdy bamboo foothold so we wouldn't have to rely entirely upon upper body strength. Sure enough, when we arrived at the site, careful to avoid the poison ivy innocently edging the trail, there hung the most beautiful ropeswing I've ever laid eyes on. Though the river is a little low right now, the bank still dropped off swiftly to an adequate depth, and the swing hung from the upper branches of a tree that reached its limbs out over the slow current of the water.

If you're ballsy enough to want a go of it, there's not much of an option for backing out... though the limb you climb to get up to the swing isn't very steep, it's incredibly narrow, and arguably the most difficult part of the experience. Fortunately there are a few crossbars nailed into the tree (thank you Tree, and sorry). And the rest is history. We sailed out of the tree and cried with delight as we came plunging down (gracefully, or not) into the refreshing coolness of the river. As it got dark, Pam and I kicked it back to the days of Ecuador with a little skinny-dipping. Then we all dried out around a little fire the guys started up, wishing we had some marshmallows. By about 10 pm we were feeling hungry, so we headed back up the footpath to the canal trail, and fumbled our way through the cobwebs, fireflies leading the way. We don't have fireflies in the Northwest, and this was only the 3rd time I've seen them, so it was naturally a bit novel. Then again, life in general is pretty novel, these days...

Our evening ended with a late night BBQ up on the mountain where the raft guides live, watching rafting and surfing movies into the wee hours of morning, when finally the humidity spawned a torrential downpour and some crackling thunder and lightning. I fell asleep on the hide-a-bed to rain pattering on the patio. Oh Summer, I love you so.