Here Lies the Sunbather
I drag my royal blue beach recliner around the yard like a cartoon caveman drags a woman. It’s like a clock that circles the yard, follows the orbit of the sun and tells of my recent whereabouts. It’s a heavy chair, but I have to find just the right spot, open but protected and private, behind the trees or the garden fence, somewhere I can sunbathe without clothes and not be seen by my neighbor on his lawnmower, where I can soak up the sun like a voltaic cell, expose my eyes that are prone to tear duct infections, make some Vitamin D.
I don’t have to think about whether I will or won’t wear a bikini or about tan lines showing. Sometimes I read or come into the house too quickly because it’s hotter than I thought, because I don’t wear sunscreen, because I don’t like the chemicals and know that about 70% of what you put on your skin you might as well be eating. Sometimes I come in prematurely and run upstairs to the computer room to type something out. I watch out not to step on the chicken egg that I just lay between the slats on the porch floor and I’m especially careful not to knock over the nail polish that I brought out to mark the claw of the hen I suspect is eating its eggs.
The recliner is usually found in the west side of the yard when I sit before noon and in the east in the afternoon. If I drag it close to the chicken coop the hens come running out squawking and looking for treats. Occasionally, it’s parked in the middle of the open yard, which means I was watching stars or a meteor shower the night before.
If the grand kids come over, the lounger could be anywhere, facing the trampoline where they play mortal combat or maybe turned over for a tent. There is no nude sunbathing on those days or sunbathing at all, more like catching a few breathers during all the activity, whether on it or on the hammock, which is guaranteed to eventually become a rocky sailboat invaded by pirates.
Sometimes the chair is tucked behind the overgrown forsythia bush for days, which probably means I’ve been working on a story and haven’t had a chance or have forgotten to sit outside. But maybe I’ve been sitting too long, typing on the computer. Sometimes I crash on my bed like a beached whale watching life from the window and waiting for a second wind. I stretch out on top of the comforter that is also royal blue, but when it gets cold I have to go under and pull it up around my neck.
About the time the screens come down, I pull the blue lounger up on the porch. For the next few weeks I drag it from one end of the porch to another like a child dragging a blanket, following the sun from one end of the sky to the other like a child follows its mother. At some point it ends up in the shed, folded and leaning like a sad reminder or grave marker. Here lies summer. The memory of the sunbather. May they rest in peace.
September 20th, 2015 9:14 am
Amazing imagery and I will never look at an outdoor lounge chair in the same way every again! If I ever do come to visit I will whistle loudly.
September 20th, 2015 10:23 am
This is a beauty and as Tabor says, “amazing imagery”!
September 20th, 2015 10:40 am
Oh how I hear ya! I think it is a beach baby thing.
If only we could sit in our chairs and trap shoot d’em annoying and troublesome clouds away. Oh well, at least Autumn wears her sexy clothes before winter draws an icy arrow from the quiver.
No more perfect of a write could be written and captured, you done did, did it.
September 20th, 2015 4:29 pm
I should do that as much as you do but am guilty of letting too many things get in the way! I use coconut oil on my skin-it does off some protection and is a great moisturizer. Soon, we will have to wait until next summer to take this up again!
September 21st, 2015 3:17 pm
That’s a pretty clunky security blanket you’re dragging around. ;-D