Flying high

One of the pleasures of living on the East coast is the variation in the seasons. With Autumn come the bright hues and crunch of leaves, cable knit sweaters, and pumpkin spice lattes. We ease in to Winter with temperatures that drop steadily, snow falls, and the buzz of the holidays. When it has been dark for long enough, Spring greets us with warm sunshine and fresh blooms. 

At last it is Summer. There are popsicles, roasted marshmallows, and late nights around the fire. Weekends are for the beach or picnicking. Weeknights, we grill outside greeted by warmth, a setting sun, and the smell of fresh basil from the garden.  There is an abundance of activities outdoors. My boyfriend James has a keen sense of adventure, which is aided by his appreciation of small things. Consequently, ordinary endeavors become grand adventures.  

One night, on a whim we went to the State Fair in search of a deep fried confection and a ride or two. Fortunate for us, there happened to be a traveling Circus group performing, the entertainers dressed head to to in red, white and blue, the picture of Americana. We grabbed seats next to a sweet family of six, and watched on in amazement.  

The first performer climbed a massive pole, and hung from the very top by just a wrist strap. In the wind, the pole swayed back and forth, as she stood atop and balanced with no net below her, and I ached with anxiety. There was a human cannon that flew through the air, and two young men that maneuvered a massive rotating apparatus with ease. A family of performers walked the tight rope, then rode along it on a bicycle. My heart beat faster with every step. Planes from the nearby airport roared overhead all the while, and  American flags waved as these talents were flying high against the backdrop of the evening sky.  

After the performance, we wandered, mounted the sky ride and caught a breathtaking view of the New York City skyline. James kept his eyes closed as he was reminded of one too many drills at high altitudes from his time as Marine. We had french fries with malt vinegar and a coffee milkshake to split, an end to a fine summer night.

Written from the heart.