There's not much to do in suburbia in the summer, especially in the night. Although it's the eve of the nation's blessed Independence Day, and many people are out festively watching celebratory fireworks, I had a different idea in mind -- so a friend and I got into a car and drove around. We found a jogging trail and followed it until we reached the edge of a river. Tranquility at its finest, but the overbearing darkness didn't make for such a calm experience. My eyesight was gone, so the rest of my senses were tripled in power, and adrenaline was pumping throughout my body with vigor. Ultimately though, it was a nice half hour watching the moon's reflection dissipate in the ripples of the river. The chorus of crickets outside nicely complemented the flickering of the fireflies. It finally started feeling like summer tonight. After a while, we hopped back into the car and drove around a bit more. We blasted music and sang at the top of our lungs, and then decided to go home. However, as we reached the driveway of my house, we realized we weren't quite ready to retire for the night. It was 11:00 PM -- where to go? We took a quick drive around my neighborhood to brainstorm, and then we found ourselves happily at the swimming pool in my neighborhood. Was this allowed? Technically, no; the pool officially closes at 9 PM, but it's not like we were swimming or anything. We were quiet and serene, so I punched in the code to enter, flipped off my sandals and dipped my toes in the warm water.
Over the years I've lived in my current neighborhood, I've learned a trick or too. One thing I love about my swimming pool are the lights; once the sun sets and the darkness lurks in the sky, I can easily flip a switch and turn the pool a magnificent aquamarine color. The lights under the water, on the sides, lit up with an incredible flame, and I could feel the goosebumps climb up the crevices of my spine.
It was one of those moments you hear about in over-cliched teen romance movies. But it was real. It was one of those moments that you want to envelope into your pocket and save for a time of angst and melancholy sorrow. The wondrous rumble of the chlorine water paired perfectly with the frog croaks and cricket chirps. Even better, the sky was filled with constellations and galactic stars. I could see the patches of silver clouds peeking, seeping, through the blanket of stars, and I felt so real. Everything felt so real. For a while now, I've felt a bit lost -- I tripped down the rabbit hole. Only unlike Alice, I was alone and desperate for a way out. Lately, I've started to feel like, particle by particle, I've started to disappear into the atmosphere; I could feel the fibers of my soul starting to separate and dissipate into the universe, but tonight, everything changed. I felt myself solidify into my being, into my core, into my essence. I felt the memories rush inside me like the blood that keeps me alive. I felt nostalgia, euphoria, and a certain kind of sadness. But nothing quite mattered at that moment because I have never felt that alive.
Maybe there were just enough stars in the sky tonight. Maybe the color of the pool was just the right shade of blue. Maybe the crickets chirped at just the right frequency. Either way, the events pieced together to form a night of adolescent excellence. So I traced the surface of the water with my fingertips and shared my fingerprints with the bubbles waltzing throughout the water. I made more than a memory; I made a moment. It was surreal, and part of me doesn't want to go to sleep tonight in fear that I will wake up tomorrow thinking such a magical moment could only be logically categorized as a dream.
Being it the summer before senior year, there are plenty of events in store. There are college essay planning excel spreadsheets. There is summer homework. I have internships, online classes, prepping for big tests, and so forth. Recently, I've taken a break. I sat down with my family at dinner and discussed some events going on -- Tim Howard being the hallmark of America, the stomach-twisting story of the child left in the summer heated car, the (ridiculous) new power given to employees over contraception choices, and of course, Hurricane Arthur. The breeze has been really nice today, but my prayers go out to those in North Carolina that are in a state of emergency. They were given a week of calm weather only to be greeted by a torrential downpour.
I am North Carolina.
Senior year is Hurricane Arthur.
Tonight was my calm before the storm.
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