Childhood Summers

When I sit quietly at the pier, I remember the summer of my childhood. Not far from the sound of the dam dam, I fell into almost impossible fantasies, only one fish broke the water and returned to reality. When the sound waves on the surface of the image spread like a surface, the reflection of the sun dances on the water. A cool wind blows the flowers behind me and brings a sweet scent to my senses. This will cause birds to sing back and forth with their quiet natural sound CD.

In my childhood summer I spent in this village near the Aegean Sea. Our tradition is to visit the field by soaking in the turquoise waters. We will choose red tomatoes like sweet peppers and blood from the vine. At that time my uncle will break the watermelon. I fill my face in a big slice and remove the sweetness and salt from the Aegean Sea from my cheeks. The Aegean said an olive tree. Like gold. Happiness and pain that they bring to their families. A story of a deadly tree. I took all these mourning. The first batch of fruits came for decades. Many generations are involved. Precious seed a drop of olive oil. It is good for your skin. Hair mask and soap

August is in my memory, and in my head it is clearly visible in my childhood garden. Early in the morning, it is already very warm. The lamp has a slight hue remaining from the moisture of Missouri in the summer. In the summer morning when I was a child, a distant war has arrived in our garden. I am 6 years old, and at the end of the decade of the 60 's I have judged that I am the first in a quiet place of the house. I did what I did every morning, but I still did it; I went to the window and saw the backyard. The trees in our garden and near us are very high. The house disappeared under the Sycamore tree, and when it was made mottled and the bald bark and the hard seedball exploded to fluff when it hit. They offer huge shades, like outdoor cathedrals, and in the summer they arrange streets in perfect canopies