REMEMBER TO ROCK

On any summer day I keep busy driving to Chase Farm for strawberries to make jam, playing 9 holes at Webhannet Golf Club with pals, snipping plump cucumbers from my backyard container garden to pickle and share with neighbors, settling at the card table for a game of canasta, wading up to my knees in the still-tingling Atlantic surf at Mother’s Beach, or stopping by the Clam Shack in Kport for a bucket of deliciousness … extra tartar sauce, please.

I love it all. Every minute. It’s summer in Maine.

But something struck me the other afternoon when a friend popped over to visit me here in the Wells woods.  We sat on the front porch, plopped into comfy white LLBean rockers with striped-green cushions. A gentle breeze stirred the wind chime hanging from the porch ceiling. That lilting sound was as refreshing as the limeade we sipped in ice-filled Tervis tumblers.

And we talked for two hours straight. I didn’t want the conversation to end.

That friend was Susan Doherty, a svelte Canadian author with more energy and bounce than Taylor Swift.  We chatted about her recently-published book, MONDAY RENT BOY, that’s receiving accolades and glowing reviews. Susan is both a pal and my mentor. She’s a gifted writer who can spot a good plot two miles away, who encourages me (and other journalists) to put “bum to chair” and write. So I listen and learn.

But we didn’t only discuss writing as we rocked the balmy afternoon away. We talked about our husbands and kids — their health issues, their dreams, their relationships. We discussed the current political scene and agreed it’s a hot mess with unnecessary nastiness. We swapped book titles and savory toppings for grilled salmon. We compared pesto recipes — Susan likes blending arugula with walnuts, while I’m more traditional, puree-ing fresh basil with pine nuts and Parm.

After Susan left, I thought to myself: why don’t I do that more often? Why don’t I invite a friend to come and sit in my other rocker and talk — truly talk. Texts and phone calls satisfy quick, often necessary communication. Cocktail chatter keeps me updated on local happenings and real estate prices. But sitting and sharing thoughts, hopes, disappointments, fears and small triumphs, plus recipes, are rare in this much-too-busy world. 

I’m reminded of Mark Twain’s words in “Warm Summer Sun.”

Warm summer sun, shine kindly here,

Warm southern wind, blow softly here.

“Kindly” and “softly.” Just reading those words is decelerating. And that’s what I’m suggesting:  don’t just stop to smell the beach roses, stop and take time to relax and converse with a friend. Or just sit on your back deck and take it all in.

Tomorrow, there will still be weeds to clear from your garden. There will still be a pile of ironing to do, and crusty Weber grills to scrape, garage shelves to reorganize, and a dusty Subaru to wash in the driveway. Life’s errands and tasks never end.

So find yourself a rocker. Let the minutes tick by as you delight in a balmy July day. What’s the rush? Do as Susan suggests: “put bum to chair.” I think you’ll like it.