With the summer drawing to its midway point and the earth’s northern locales reaching closer to the sun, we are naturally drawn to the refreshing shores of the nearest large body of water. While most enjoy sunbathing on a beach, waves thundering in four-part harmony with each ebb and flow and the feel of coarse sand newly darkened by the tide’s saturation on their feet, others prefer a more active way to enjoy the summer.

Often more convenient than a beach is a local park, where one can simply step across fields of play with the same aimless stride that he did when he was young. It is in so many ways like a time machine back to the days when recess was on the daily schedule and juice boxes were staples, not novelties, of consumption. The park can be enjoyed on your own, but you are almost never alone there, as a new friend is never more than an errant Frisbee throw away.

Among the picnickers and weekend backpackers, you find diamonds of rough red dirt sparsely populated with cleated adults, both men and women, that range in conditioning level from moderately well fit to completely out of shape. This is the Sunday softball crowd; a precious time capsule unto itself. They gather toting bags of bats made for players beyond their skill level and gloves made by craftsmen beyond their adequate appreciation.

The teams, as they were in the years of their youth, are a patchwork of personalities, mirrors of their parents. Some compete with gritted teeth, others pick the grass in between pitches and draw their initials in the dirt. Softballs will be pitched and caught, plays will be made and missed, and one team will score more runs than the other. Regardless of the outcome of the game, each person participating on the field or observing the game bears witness to the magic. They fill their lungs, the air thick with summer blossoms and fresh-cut grass and measure themselves with each exhale of patient exalt. Conjured from a canvas of sunlight and dew, some of the best summer memories take place in your nearest park. To some it is an urban oasis, to others a nine-inning vacation, but to everyone it is a blessing.

— David Coker, advertising manager