Summer solstice crept over the horizon like a cat stalking a cricket. Move too fast and the moment will jump and flutter away on noisy wings.The sun peeked over the trees and hills on the far side of the neighboring farm. The driveway momentarily moved from night-shadow grey to a deeper black as the entire world adjusted to the flow of light.
Georgia sat on the porch, glancing over her shoulder from time-to-time. Searching for adults had become a habit so ingrained it seemed more like a reflex. Watchful vigilance was something akin to blinking or breathing.
She was supposed to be in bed, like all the other children, but today was the first day of summer and Georgia intended to see it from beginning to end. She’d told her mother this over dinner the previous night, but the only response was a long sigh and a wordy lecture about things ‘they’d talked about.’
This was important. Her mother didn’t agree, but Georgia was convinced she knew better. Besides, what was so wrong about watching a sunrise and a sunset? There was no school and chores were always the same.
The first day of anything was special because it was different. Summer was special because it was…summer! The first day of summer? That was something extra special and Georgia was going to see every last minute of it. Even if she couldn’t convince a single adult to bake a cake with the words “Happy Summer!” in green and blue frosting.
The sun rose higher in the sky. The birds began their songs long before the sun showed her face, but now there was a loud chorus. It was the bird version of a traffic jam, with all of them fluttering about, chattering away, and occasionally diving down after a bug or a worm.
The last star was still visible in the sky. The smell of coffee floated out on the air from the nearest Wild Raccoon neighbors. Lights were slowly flickering on in different windows across the community.
A buzzer went off in her mother’s room a few moments after Georgia watched the last star disappear from the sky. As quietly as she could, Georgia slipped back into the small house she shared with her mother and younger brother.
It was a small building, much smaller than the one they’d had when daddy was alive, but the Wild Raccoon farm was an entire world just bursting with things she’d never seen before. Safe in her room, sitting on the bed and watching the sky through the open window, Georgia closed her eyes and remembered her daddy. Remembered everything. His voice, his smell, the way his face turned red when he was angry and even more red when he laughed.
“Good morning daddy.” She whispered. “I miss you.”
As long as she could remember him, he was here with her. That was what they said at the funeral – and every opportunity for many weeks after. Georgia practiced remembering every time she found something amazing or beautiful. She wanted her daddy to share it and she wanted to make sure she never forgot.
The Wild Raccoon had many things to discover and, as long as she kept finding little things like he sunrise, she would never lose her daddy. Not for real. Not for forever.