Summer Daydreams

Tonight I did one of my favorite things. I went to a place that I’ve nicknamed Sunset Hill to catch what was preparing to be a beautiful summer sunset. This hill is in front of a small brick apartment building with some nice old trees surrounding it. The hill is just high enough to put you even with the very tops of the trees, so it offers a pretty great view of the sky. There is a playground for the kids who walk over from the surrounding neighborhoods with their moms and a nice, oversized, grande picnic table under a tree. Often in addition to small children some sweet elderly women who are out for an evening stroll show up to sit, visit, read or do cross-stitch. It makes me think that there must be some nice things about growing old.

On this particular evening I had brought another favorite thing with me – a pint of strawberry Bluebell ice cream. Wow. If you’ve never experienced a pint of Bluebell, you really need to. It has got to be the creamiest and smoothest ice cream I’ve ever tasted.
So, I sat on the grande picnic table staring out at a glorious sky of pinks and grays edged with gold and cracked open my yummy strawberry companion.

As I licked away, my mind began to roam and create all sorts of stories and scenarios. I considered the romance of it all - a quiet summer night, a beautiful sunset, strawberry ice cream. This would be a perfect setting for a movie. Just think, what if there was this guy – a young and handsome one, of course - who lived in the apartments and noticed that I regularly came to the hill to catch the sunset, often bearing a pint of Bluebell? What if I intrigued him and he somehow began to search out and discover all sorts of other little idiosyncrasies about me? What if he began to fall in love with me more and more with each little thing he learned about me, still never revealing himself? Then, what if one day he was waiting for me there on the grande picnic table with two pints of Bluebell? Hmmm…. What would I do? Eat the ice cream for sure. I wonder if I would be creeped out. Probably. What if he began telling me about all these little things that he had noticed about me and how much he loved them and then how much he loved me? I mean, if it really was a movie I’d probably kiss him right then and there, but what about real life? Would the power of pursuit overtake my heart?

As I was caught up in my sugar-high daydream, a familiar voice quietly stole into my thoughts. “What if that person was Me? What if I not only knew all those beautiful little things about you but I had written them into your very personality? What if I designed you that way and then fell in love with you? What if I’m the one who wants to pursue your heart at sunset with Bluebell ice cream? What if it was Me?”