** I have revised a post I did in 2014 so that it flowed more like a story, combining two summer memories into one the previous post is : Write about a Summer night ofcourse neither of the sisters in this story were the size of whales, but you know how sisters joke!**
Warm crisp air. Palm trees stand tall rocking gently to the melody on the breeze. The purple and golden haze set slowly with the sun into a starry violet sky. Tiki lamps and candle light play on the ground in a delicate dance of golden swirls and shadows. The cement that surrounds the glistening pool of water make a wide spread dance floor. Bare tanned feet swirl along the ground, the sounds of music spread harmony across a dimly lit yard.
We dance to the sounds of Carlos Santana’s “Moon Flower”. The wordless enchantment is the harmony of our night. When our Aunt and cousins come to stay the summer feels like an endless dream of music and heat and sun. We jump in and out of the water that warms our bodies and swirl around in the summer night air. The Moon rises overhead like a spotlight to our cement stage. The taste of the crisp night air settles on our lips with the mixture of salsa and corn chips and icy drinks in frosted glasses.
The hum of the town around us does not invade our sanctuary over-looking a canyon facing westward. When the night is done and the warm showers begin and PJs are donned, I sit at my west facing window breathing in summer’s spiciness and I have waking dreams. I pull out the screen in just the right way, and climb out of my window to the side roof where I can hear nights symphony. I jot down my dreams before they escape me. The smile of contentment spreads across my teenaged face and I can feel my mind finally preparing to sleep. Until I hear it.
The sliding glass door scrapes open and I hear two sets of feet patter across the cement under the patio roof. I duck low so I won't be seen. The darkness of the sky can’t hide the culprits and I can see their pale white bodies glistening in the moonlight. Aunt B and Mom are standing over the spa as it steams against the warm night air. as if they are witches standing over a bubbling brew “You first.” One says, I can’t tell who, they sound exactly alike.
“You go first it was your idea.” The other giggles back.
I hear a splash and see them both descending into the warm water. They float, covering their chests with white arms and paddle their feet side by side. I can hear them talking, giggling and sharing their sisterly secrets.
“We look like a couple of whales.” One says to the other in between sips of their margaritas.
Even as adults they seem to have a young sisterly bond. I watch them for a little while before climbing back into my window, quietly as I can. The creaking causes me to pause in agonizing positions as I go. When I finally reach my bed, I have dreams of white whales and Moonflowers, bathing in starlight.