010 | A Dandelion Wine Summer

There are some authors who are writers, there are some who are record keepers, but there are a select few who are truly storytellers. 

If you’ve ever had the pleasure of reading a Ray Bradbury book, you’ll know the thrill of his metaphors and the poignancy of his messages.

Early this summer, I read his personal memoir (of sorts) called Dandelion Wine It’s a coming-of-age story loosely following the adventures of young Bradbury and his brother during a summer of youth and discovery in a small 1920s Midwest town.

During the early days of summer, young Bradbury decides that he has come alive, only just woken up and realized that he is living. He resolves to recognize this fact by keeping a log throughout the summer containing two parts.

  1. things he does for the first time ever

  2. Rites and Rituals: things that repeat year over year

He tracks all of these by candlelight every night, documenting the date item was experienced.

As someone sensitive to the flowing seasons I was immediately inspired by this method of documentation. I promptly began my own list. Not only was it a pleasant way to document the goings on of a season, but it heightened my awareness for a simplicity, often unnoticed, and underappreciated. 

First Time Ever

  • June 3: Picked up groceries on my bike

  • June 3: Rode my road bike in my new town

  • June 9: Skipped my first stone

  • July 13: Oiled wooden porch furniture

  • July 19: Switched to manual photography

Rites and Rituals

  • May 31: First watermelon 

  • June 2: First outdoor dinner

  • June 2: First mosquito bite

  • June 3: First firefly seen

  • June 3: First use of picnic blanket

  • June 3: First bug to hit my face while cycling 

  • June 16: First chicory sighting

  • July 2: First firework show

  • July 14: First monarch spotted

  • July 21: Caught in a sudden thunderstorm

  • August 15: Breakfast outside at Mom’s

The story opens with Bradbury and his brother helping their grandfather, pick dandelions to make dandelion wine, and it closes with the boys, observing the jars of sunlight captured in the cellar as they read the dates on each jar and recall the moments of summer contained in each. 

Bradbury reminds us all to pause and take note of the passing seasons, to notice and observe the world around us as the season’s turn to appreciate every simple pleasure. 

I think I will continue this tradition. For every season. 


Sincerely,

The Grower

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