Yesterday I had the pleasure of watching a family across from us in the campground. Their license plates were from New York - a family of four traveling with Grandma and Grandpa. The two boys were probably around seven and ten and you could tell they were making their way home from a long vacation on the road.

After chowing down a bowl of cereal both boys put their helmets on, grabbed their bikes, and rode in circles around their large RV. Then they donned their swimsuits, and the mom, grandma, and two boys, headed up to the pool where we heard them splashing and playing all day long.

Later that afternoon I ran into the two women in the laundry room. I had gone there to do some laundry and all the washers appeared to be in use. Two college aged kids who work at the campground came in to wash the bedding from one of the cabins. When they saw the machines were in use but the cycle finished, they reached inside and pulled out one tie dyed t-shirt from each washer. We weren’t sure what to make of it so they hung them up and went about their business. Shortly after this the women came in, dripping water from the pool in flip flops, cover ups and smiles, and said oh good the t-shirts are done. The grandma said they had done them as a summer project with the kids and they had to be washed individually or they would blend all the colors together. I thought what a fun summer project to do on the road - and what a generous grandma - considering it costs two dollars for each washer to run once.

That evening I saw the boys wandering back from the camp store with their dad - ice cream cones in hand, tie died t-shirts on over their still wet bathing suits, cheeks pink from a day spent out under the sun. I had no doubt that they fell asleep hard that night, dreaming of pools, and crafts, and summer sunshine.

Now this would not be that unique of a scene but we are in an RV campground right off of two busy freeways in Lincoln, Nebraska. We are not up in the woods or at some luxury summer time resort. We are not near a beach or a lake. Just a relatively affordable campground, filled mostly with folks stopping for the night, on their way to somewhere else - that happens to have a pool.

All of this reminded me of a chapter I just finished reading in my sabbath book on child’s time. In it the author talked about how children really know how to give over to wonder. To let go of agenda’s and the “have to” lists and just enjoy what is in front of them. That kids don’t even need a really scenic place to find something to capture their imagination. And I thought of those two boys engulfed in the wonders of summer time fun right here in the RV park. After all there was dirt to play in, a pool to swim in, ice cream to be enjoyed. And I found myself wondering how I could go back to the place where all I wanted to do was swim all day, eat ice cream, and make crafts. How did my to do list get so long and cumbersome? And for what purpose?

This morning, as our neighbors packed up to head out, I laid down on the grass to do some yoga. As I sat with my feet in the air, letting my lymph nodes empty out and be refreshed, I watched the trees and the birds and the patch of blue sky. And I just stayed like that for awhile - remembering when the kids and I would go lay on the lawn and watch the clouds float by. Remembering what it felt like to not need to do anything more pressing than watch the birds and squirrels jump from tree to tree.

I am in need of more of this time. I am not a child any more, and it does not come easily, but I can make an effort. Not a grown up kind of “I can get this done effort” - but a surrender to time and wonder and play.

I am not sure what will slip to the side while I allow this invitation to unfold but it feels really important. More important than all the other stuff I have listed on the to do list right now.

We set out on this adventure to live fully and I intend to do that.

So here is to summer time. You can find me in the grass with my feet up in the air. Lost in the wonder of it all.