The Middle Of The Summer In The Middle Of The Country

As I was falling asleep on Midsummers Eve, the sun still hours from its short pause on the longest day of the year, I reflected on the, to me, interesting fact that everybody I know in this country had done some minor variation on the exact same thing I had that day.  I tried to think if there is ever any time when almost everyone in America is doing the very same thing as the next American and I couldn't come up with anything.  It made me feel part of something and yet so glad to come from a place of such diversity.  I went on to consider that, despite celebrating midsummer with the same trappings, the three that I've been here to enjoy have all been very different from one another.  My first midsummer, The Swede and I were at a private party with friends in the country, drinking and dancing the night away.  Last year, I was uber pregnant and enjoying the company of Cousin Anne and her friends from London here in Kungsängen, and this year the family gathered at the cabin and took part in the neighborhood party.  As usual, there was a lot of really good food, dancing around the maypole, and glorious sunshine that never stopped.