Spring never fails to swing the whole world into a clichéd dictionary of adjectives: rejuvenation, rebirth, recycle, re-do-your-blog. As a nearly thrice degreed academic, you might think all the optimism and cyclical cheer of Spring would have been pulled out of me. I assure you, it’s not. I’m not above the intoxicating scent warm air and damp clouds roll my way come May. Just like the baby rabbits and new fawns, I’m floating on a curiously buoyant raft of hope as soon as Spring semester splashes to a close.
As is custom, I frequently start projects while under Spring’s spell that I don’t finish. (See Case of the Old blog.) Certain posts there I very much enjoy, such as my metaphorical foray into the Jungle. For this time around, though, I’m going to have a compelling reason to write: another Ohioan. Jenna at The Rustbelt Chronicles and myself are endeavoring to post with a most steady frequency and with the most fluid language. Our sudden renewed interest in being productive members of the Blogging elite has nothing whatsoever to do with our impending masters thesis deadlines, but thank you for asking.
While there is no strong suggestion that either of us will be more successful this season than any past, I hope the inspiration of the First Adventure never dwindles. The First Adventure is a term I literally just coined. It means the very first moment of Summer when you know in your bones that every young adult novel about beaches and summer camp you ever read has the opportunity to be real.
Magic twinkling lights sans mosquitos by a fire that doesn’t choke you, that could happen! Warm breezes on a lake in a canoe you don’t have to paddle up stream to a secluded meadow with a fellow cutie camp counselor: that’s an average Tuesday. Maybe you’re thinking about sipping a whiskey that tastes like lemonade by an open window with your bare feet flung over the arm of a fancy sofa, listening to the hum of heat rise. It’s all possible, and it’s always possible, but the First Adventure is the ignition. When I feel it, I believe that Summer is freedom, possibility, and most of all, adventure.
The Ohioan 