Licking summer

Just came back from a very nice family reunion up at Grant's Pass, Oregon.

At one point my little four-year-old-first-cousin-once-removed David (he calls me "cousin me" because we both have the same name) led me up the side of Applegate River next to his house exploring, and we found ourselves picking (and eating) delicious juicy blackberries in the toasty summer sun.

It seemed so idyllic, and I said "mmmm.... this is the taste of summer..."

David was silent for a moment and then he said "we're eating summer..." I said "yeah, I guess we are!"

Then he said, "no, we're licking summer, because it keeps coming back every year. So you can't eat summer ... or spring .... or winter. I guess if you ate all the trees then you could eat fall, because all the trees would be gone and there would be no more fall."

So there we were, licking summer, and enjoying every minute of it.