As summer approaches, and our wet, windy (although not snowy) Australian winter slowly slinks away for the tourists to exclaim 'what wonderful weather this country has,' I find my mind wandering to summers past. To the times between school that seemed to hold the very essence of existence, to shady back yard barbecues and air so impregnated with the smell of blooming flowers you just can't seem to inhale enough. It is with this mindset that I start thinking of all the lazy days & accompaniments that travel with summer. There is of course the inevitable 'one too many' drinks at your best friends 'back-yard blitz,' the overstuffed rented cabin by the beach and the moments when you think a hammock should be mandatory. It seems that with with all these summer activities I find myself sleeping in areas and on surfaces that at any other time of year I would likely be declared insane for attempting slumber on/in them. The title of this post isn't a sexual innuendo, so if you were thinking such, I suggest you pull your head out of the gutter, this post is merely a salute to summers versatility when it comes to sleeping. As I start to rattle off a list of all the odd places summer slumber has been possible I wonder if anyone reading this could share with me a similar experience of their own.
There is of course the worthy and more than notable simple cool floor, for the moments when sheets feel like you are sleeping on a stove top, then there's the bath tub at the beach house where there are ten people to a two bedroom cabin, as well as the very convertible and newly constructed mound of cushions on the veranda that started off as somewhere to sit for lunch and turned into a siesta. Some of the odder place include a hole dug in the sand with a towel at a veeerrrrryyy long beach party, the bottom of a set of stairs at a rented house after a music festival (very bottom step served as a cushion) or my friends little brothers tree house. Then there have been the many camping trips where the tent looked so neat and tidy in its nylon wrappings we decided to leave it there and move the sleeping bags to where ever the ground was softest. But I think one of the most memorable 'shut-eye' endeavors of mine has been under a willow tree, the leaves swished and hummed the most beautiful lullaby I've ever heard. When I have a backyard of my own, the first thing I'll do is plant a willow tree.
There is of course the worthy and more than notable simple cool floor, for the moments when sheets feel like you are sleeping on a stove top, then there's the bath tub at the beach house where there are ten people to a two bedroom cabin, as well as the very convertible and newly constructed mound of cushions on the veranda that started off as somewhere to sit for lunch and turned into a siesta. Some of the odder place include a hole dug in the sand with a towel at a veeerrrrryyy long beach party, the bottom of a set of stairs at a rented house after a music festival (very bottom step served as a cushion) or my friends little brothers tree house. Then there have been the many camping trips where the tent looked so neat and tidy in its nylon wrappings we decided to leave it there and move the sleeping bags to where ever the ground was softest. But I think one of the most memorable 'shut-eye' endeavors of mine has been under a willow tree, the leaves swished and hummed the most beautiful lullaby I've ever heard. When I have a backyard of my own, the first thing I'll do is plant a willow tree.
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