This book was given to me as a gift, which for this story I think is very fitting. The author, Janet Gillespie, writes about her childhood summers as the gift they were. She spent those few months with her sometimes serious, mostly funny and endearing family in their summer home in Westport, MA. Gillespie writes about the inevitability of growing up, and rediscovering things that you used to cherish as a child. She writes about relationships with family, the importance and the idiocy of tradition, and balancing out how things stay the same, and how things always change. Change, what a dreadful word in many cases. At the end of every summer, leaving your special place where you can be who you want, and knowing that next year when you come back you will be that much older, that much more removed from experiencing things as children do, with amazed wonderment. There is sadness in that idea, and I believe that sadness comes out a little in her writing, although she soldiers on, exclaiming the newness of expanding her social circle at Westport, and then finally bringing her family there and teaching her grandchildren the same things she learned as a child of the summer, but it never is really the same as growing up somewhere.
That sadness also appeared when she had to reenter the world in Princeton, in an all girls schools, where she was not allowed to be interested in the things she wanted to be and accepted by her peers at the same time. She wanted to discover new birds, go on beelines, sail and explore, and because of these experiences she was left as an outsider, struggling with leaving a place that you feel is entirely your own and moving to a place that is run by others' standards and expectations. Let it be a small reminder at least that at some point in time, even if it is not this one, we can all have somewhere to be who we want to be, and if we don't have that we can create it for ourselves.