The Summer of '70

Somehow we came up just shy of having much autonomy in the Summer of '69. But we'd made a pact to make up for it in the Summer of '70. This is OUR season in the sun. This is one of OUR stories.


My girlfriend, Tina, pulls up in front of my house. I yell to my mom that I'm leaving. She yells back my curfew. I pretend not to hear. This summer, Tina's driving a turquoise, '63 Comet convertible from her father's used car lot. Every summer she gets a different car. We are two seventeen year old chicks heading out on a Saturday night. As my butt hits the seat, its black vinyl spanks me with searing heat. My hand, singed by the metal door frame, wincingly pulls it closed. It's nearly 7 p.m. and still crazy hot. But we look cool. We know it.


Our long, blond, ironed-straight-parted-in-the-middle hair, blazing in the sun, flying in the wind, we hit the freeway. It just opened and it is our playground. If we take the cloverleaf on-ramps in just the right order, we can circle all of them and shoot off the fourth one headed west and for town. Our cotton, paisley dresses, rippling as we cruise, fan short, hot, Coppertoned thighs. We head downtown to the AC. The good ol' Artic Circle. The burger joint of choice along the weekend cruise. Too early for much action--only a few people are hanging out. After ordering a couple of Cokes and hopping back into the convertible, we make a quick lap around town. Too quiet yet to command our attention so we head due west toward Whiskeytown Lake.


On the radio, KRDG's blasting Grand Funk Railroad's, I'm your Captain. The song lasts most of the way to the lake. The sun, like a giant, orange, one-eyed ogre, moves lower in the sky. Our round, John Lennon sunglasses protect us from its blinding assault. Turning left off the highway, we spin toward the back side of the lake. Parking, peeling our sweaty thighs off the plastic seat, we get out of the car. We make a quick hike of getting down to our favorite, hidden spot by the water. The sun loses its fight with the rise of the mountains. The mountains grace us with the relief of their shade. Sitting on large, sun warmed rocks, we flip our leather sandals to the sand. Feet dangle in the water. Wheat Straw rolling papers are pulled out. Seeds and stems are picked out of the baggie of Mexican weed and saved for leaner times. A big fattie gets rolled.


Sitting in silence, we finish sipping the harsh smoke of the yellow bomber. The copper wire and beaded roach clip, ceremoniously affixed to the last, wee bit of paper wrapped herb, gives us a few more hits. We witness the day flashing its last, green-gold ray of death. Extinguished as completely as the joint. What now? Find a party? Go to the drags? Find some music? The drive-in? Yeah, tonight we'll go to the drive-in. The Woodstock movie's out. We were too young and lived too far away to go to the festival last year. But even out here, on the west coast, we had felt the ripples of excitement and were stoked to see the movie.


Sandals get put back on feet. Feet head for the convertible. We make the ride back to town under the shadow of the mountains while taking in the Fresh Air of Quicksilver Messenger Service. Just in time to make the show, we head for the silver screened giant. Making a snail's roll through the line to the neon lit, moth swarmed ticket booth, we pull out our $1.50 per car load and find a place to park. Once giving the metal speaker on the post a home on the Comet's partially rolled up window, we head off to the snack bar. A munchie run is the first priority. Abba Zaba's, popcorn, Junior Mints, red licorice and a couple of fruit punches later, we head back to the car. Second priority...a potty stop.


We are ready for the movie and what a movie it is! Jimi Hendrix, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, and Country Joe McDonald among many, many others. The Bum Trip Centers, set up by Abbie Hoffman, are filled with victims of the "not so good, brown acid" floating around. After the movie, riding high on its excitement, we head back out to the lake. Talking all the way. We had never seen that many musicians at one event. We had never seen crowds that big, stages that big, nor towers and speakers that big. No one had. And in the nearly 100-degrees-at-midnight heat, we pull those summer dresses off over our heads and kick off our sandals...again. Skinny dipping our bodies into the cool-warm layers of water, we melt grainy, salty, dried sweat from our skin. Gliding over the glassy layer of moonlit water and bouncing off of the surrounding mountains back at us, come our cheers: "Give me an 'F'." "Give me a 'U'." Give me a 'C'." "Give me a..."





The last day of summer in the northern hemisphere, has just given way to Autumn. As we poise in the balance of the dark and light of this equinox, in Redding, our temperatures are still rising above triple digit marks. It is hard to believe that we have crossed an invisible line marking a new chapter of the year. In thinking about the last days of summer, this memory keeps rising like a blurry, heat wave covered image. Memories of spending summers with my friend, Tina. For several years, our every Saturday night started and ended this same way. It makes me feel good to remember her when she was young and happy. She is dead now and her ending was not so fun or pretty. But that is a story for a darker part of the year.

Break Time

She leaned over and flipped off the switch.

No need for the air conditioner. Time to open all the windows and let in the fresh, cool breeze. Quite a change from the last month of blow-torch-blasting, egg-frying-on-the-sidewalk heat. The kind of heat where your feet literally blister when you walk barefoot on the pavement for too long. And sweat-glistened skin turns into integumentary drip hoses. The kind of heat where you notice the difference between 100 degrees and 110 and think to yourself how enjoyable is the former.

The two-leggeds are happier for a few days. Nicer to each other. Giving thanks for the break, the coolness, the all too few, but still welcome, drops of rain. Smiling. Commenting to each other on this beautiful gift given in the middle of a Hell Hole of a hot summer. The four-leggeds notice too. And the birds, the insects and the plants all join in the enjoyment. Even the fish notice they don't have to swim as deep to find cold spots in the waterways. And the parched, over baked earth sighs with relief.

But all too soon, the two-leggeds forget to give thanks and start taking these pleasures for granted. They come to expect that these blissful days will continue without interruption. They start thinking that they control the world around them.

She sees this and sighs in exasperation. "Angel, my love," she says to her winged companion. "See that group of beings down there along the west coast of the United States of America? I have been working with them on gratitude. For a minute I thought they were getting it but I can now see that I have more work to do. Can you flip that switch back on and turn the setting to INCINERATE? No, just turn it to HIGH HEAT instead. God only uses INCINERATE when she has to teach the biggest of lessons."

Theme Thursday...Water (Water Works)

I live in an area that gets hot, hot, hot! Most of the summer, the temperature ranges from the upper 90s to 120 plus degrees. The old timers say that following the completion of Shasta Dam in the 1940s, the over all temperature was cooled by 10 degrees. I am talking about fry-an-egg-on-the-pavement kind of hot. Here, hydration of everything is important.

There are many bonds between humans and other living creatures. But the most powerful bond of commonality is water. Life is sustained by water. Animals and humans need it to survive. Like humans, animals use it for cleansing and drinking. Amphibians, fish, reptiles, and some insects need it for reproduction.

Wild animals can get water from puddles, dew on grass, raindrops on leaves, and from the food they eat. They need a habitat that includes a plentiful supply of fresh, clean, accessible water. If the canals or lakes are steeply angled, they are near useless to many animals. And to butterflies, free-standing water is undrinkable.

During the blasting heat of summer, a good water source is critical for wildlife. Since we are rapidly approaching that time of year, I thought I would share some of my summer projects with you. I set up water habitats in my yard. It is quite simple and fun to do. Children love taking an active role in making the habitats that will soon give life to many different species.

Birds

Photo: krukus Photobucket.com

Dehydration becomes a life or death issue. Especially for small birds. Birdbaths are a great way to provide water for animals. Additionally, they provide focal points for landscape designs and endless hours of viewing entertainment. Birdbaths are easy and popular for providing water sources. They can be purchased or made at home. You can even look around for naturally formed baths. Hollowed-out stumps of trees or rocks with wells in them can trap sprinkler and rainwater.

As you look for a location for your water station, consider the presence of predators. Placement should allow the bathers safe haven from sneak attacks. Bushes nearby offer bird perches for preening as well as protection. But take care to make sure the shrubbery is not low and close enough to turn the bath into a birdie smorgasbord for the neighborhood cats. That really isn't a Kodak moment you want young minds to capture. The lower the bath, the more open space around it is needed.

Photo: kariccio Photobucket.com

A distance of 15 feet away from heavy shrubs is good for ground-level baths, but taller baths can be located closer. Baths with textured bottoms allow the birds firm footing. A simple way to provide this is to layer a smooth bottom with sand or pebbles. Keep the water in the bath shallow, no more than two to three inches deep in the middle with gently sloping sides. Contrary to popular belief, size is not important. But if they are less than a foot in diameter, they will be primarily used for drinking only. Baths that are 24 to 36 inches in diameter will encourage a number of birds to bathe and drink simultaneously and party sumptuously.

Be imaginative. You can use simple things like tin or foil plates, ceramic or plastic saucers, or a garbage can lid. Birds are attracted by the sound of running water. You can purchase kits or make your own device. Punch a hole in the side--not bottom--of a bucket or large can, fill with water and hang it above the birdbath. The size of hole should let 10 to 20 drops a minute dribble into the bath. Covering the bucket will keep out debris and slow evaporation. Freshen and replenish the water on a consistent basis. Scrub away algae when you see it begin to accumulate. Algae just loves bird-fertilized water.

Butterflies

These beautiful, winged creatures can not drink the standing water that a birdbath would provide. Fluids are acquired via their proboscis, the long, tube that resembles a hollow tongue. The butterflies often "puddle" by sunny, damp areas and draw moisture from the sand or mud. You can create a watering hole for these insects with an inexpensive coffee can or like container. Using earth or sand, fill the container, dig it into the ground and add water. Rocks can be added to the sides and middle of container to serve as landing pads.

Frogs, turtles, birds, lizards, snakes, and raccoons

fallingstarz1 Photobucket.com

If you are particularly skilled and have the finances, a garden pond with aquatic plants and vegetation around its edges is ideal for attracting animals that use ponds. Irregular shaped ponds provide extra fingers of space for greater variance of habitat and are attractive to a number of species. When planting a pond, you want to offer four layers of vegetation from completely submerged to completely exposed.

You can create a man-made pond or purchase any number of structures at retail stores. Be wary of pre-made ponds that are steep. They were designed for fish but can be customized for birds by adding rocks that sit above the surface serving as landing pads. Stones can also be added below the surface. And a nearby tree with overhanging branches will serve as perches.

Your water work project will give you pleasure all summer long as you dance with nature in her infinite cycle of ebb and flow. A healthy yard attracts healthy wildlife. Healthy wildlife will yield a healthy yard. Ah, water, the gift of life.