“The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It’s not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don’t know it’s happening until one day you feel you’ve lost something but you’re not sure what it is. It’s like smiling at a pretty girl and she calls you “sir.” It just happens.
These memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I’m going to be when my journey winds down. I need the memory of magic if I am ever going to conjure magic again. I need to know and remember, and I want to tell you.”
― Robert McCammon, Boy’s Life
Once, a very long time ago, and also not nearly long enough, summer was a source of endless magic. It was the smell of cut grass and chlorine, fingers sticky from Popsicles, and a chorus of birds and neighbors shouting to one another over fences while mowers hummed and sputtered in the background. It was car rides with the windows rolled down and hot air blowing in our faces and the smell of charcoal from grills and tan lines. Summer meant fireflies and dirty bare feet and chasing our youth through the neighborhood on bikes with rusty chains. I spent the year waiting for summer and lived a thousand lifetimes in the span of three sun-drenched months. Summer was a promise. A promise of adventure and magic and endless possibilities.
But then I grew up. I grew up and somewhere in the growing, I lost a bit of the magic. Summer became a chore. Days filled with endless hours and more sunlight and What Do You Mean You Want To Stay Up Late And Build a Fort I Am Tired sighs I made to my eager faced boys young enough to still feel that sweet song June hums.
The next three months, we’re gonna try our damndest to experience the summer through our kids’s eyes. We’re gonna make an effort to find that magic again. We’re gonna chase after fireflies in the fading light and we’re gonna swing our feet off of docks and dive into murky river water. We’re gonna get sticky and dirty and we’re gonna build forts and climb trees. We’re gonna go on an adventure and when our kids go back to school, we’re gonna have tan lines to match theirs.
And we hope you join us.
Tweet about it. Post your pictures on Instagram. Blog your adventures. Document the journey to experience the romance of being young under a summer sun again with the hashtag #kidvision. Because we might have grown up, but we can still conjure magic. And more importantly, we can show our kids they don’t have to lose theirs.