Getting Started

The nights were always quiet after the streetlights came on. In the middle of the 50s in my small town we all knew it was time to put the bicycles away and let the grownups know we were home. Suppers were eaten early and now it was time to gather the generations together to sit and let evening come into town. To visit quietly about where we had been and what we had done. Sitting outside on the steps of the front porch, enjoying the cooling summer breeze, marveling at the number of fireflies and swearing we'd never seen so many before, and simply listening to the quiet. Not much was asked of us in the summer when I was a child, but much was given. I was the second child of three of a factory worker and a stay-at-home mother. No extra money but we had food (some quite creative) and clothes, and always--we had books. And we had quiet summer evenings....