summer vacation begins in the wee hours of the morning....

Summer is officially here according to the patio thermometer that stares at her through the garden doors. It is muggy, still and hot. Time to get up where the air is a little thinner and much cooler and certainly cleaner. Tonight they would pack the car. She had always loved car trips. Maybe it had to do with the years as a child she spent traveling by car to the East Coast. The excitement the night before a trip prevented a sound sleep and when the alarm blared at 3 a.m., it took but a few minutes for the family of five to climb into the packed car with pillows and blankets and snacks and toys.

Packing the car was certainly another matter. tempers flared as it became obvious that there was not enough room for everything that had been stacked next to the door. And it always seemed that just as the last puzzle piece had been put in place, another bag or suitcase turned up to upset what was to have been the final arrangement.

Even through the exhaustion and frustration of preparing for the trip, she could still feel the excitement of "going down the road" as she looked forward to the next morning. Her husband, unaccustomed to 3 a.m. departures, compromised with 4:30a.m. She woke promptly at three o'clock. As she filled the two-cup thermos with coffee, she intentionally clattered the cup against saucer to rouse her slumbering family. She was ready to go. Now.

She had always felt that there was something magical about heading out of town before dawn. The neighborhood streets are quiet except for the occasional barking of a dog. The stars are barely visible and the sound of nighttime crickets is still obvious but waning.

Finally, they are on their way. Traffic on the freeway picks up and city speed limits are ignored. As each car passes, it is easy to imagine where their life is taking them at this early hour. Probably to the early shift or possible home from the late shift, but most likely no one is fortunate enough to be leaving on summer vacation.

As the lights of the city are left behind and the freeway turns into a two-way rural road, the children snuggle down into the piles of blankets and pillows and slip into motion-induced sleep. Mom is quiet and believes that this is the best part of the trip. The sky is beginning to glow with the first sign of a beautiful sunrise. She nods her head to no one but herself as she realizes that all sunrises on the first day of vacation are perfect.

The children are asleep, unaware that arms and legs are entwined and each one's "space" has been invaded by the other. The jug of water is cool against her legs as little puddles of water collect beneath the leaky spout. She reaches for Redbook or Ladies Home Journal, which she knows will be just the right reading material for this stage of the trip She would save the 700 page novel for later. Light reading was enough right now. There was too much to see as night turned to day.

The hum of the engine and the drone of the radio were familiar and comforting, for she knew that as the day went on this delicious feeling would be but an image in her mind. The cool of early morning would disappear and the heat of midday sun would wear on them all. The slightly soggy sandwiches would be eaten and the jug of water would be ignored in favor of gas-station soda. In the back seat, crumbs and candy wrappers would litter the floor and the children would take on a disheveled look. Shoes and socks would find their way underneath the front seat and toys would be abandoned for the creative games of the mind. Patience would shorten and fights would erupt and spills would create wet spots on the back seat.

Then the first day of vacation would end. Dinner and baths and a much-needed walk would revive all. Then back to their room where they would pile onto one of the double beds in the hotel, laughing and crowding and tumbling to the floor. And when all were once again quiet and only she was awake, she would smile and turn over on her side. She would fling one leg off the side of the bed and stuff a pillow under one arm while the little one scooted even closer to her curved back.

The first day of vacation was always the best from beginning to end.