Ode to Summer

It happens every August. The sorrowful slapping of autumnal rain against sheeted glass, ribbons of dewy drops running in rivulets as Mother Nature weeps. I mourn too, for summer is ending.

I awoke this morning to a chill. I have not felt chilled outside of the confines of my artificially cooled vehicle and home in months. The nip in the air reminded me that the last of summer's bright burning flames are cooling to embers, soon to be snuffed out by snaking, swirling swarms of fluttering foliage, dancing on the wind. The mighty emerald walls around us will all too soon surrender to fall, revealing winter's skeleton in drab and dingy dim. I am always ill-prepared.

Every June, my spirit awakens with the ever-earlier rising sun, embarking on a journey basking in beach-filled days and campfire nights. My soul dances like the flitting fireflies on the lawn in mid-July, sings a chorus even more chaotic than the cacophony of crickets droning to the beat of their own ambitious aria. I literally come alive with the warmth of summer. Nothing tastes as sweet as summer ice cream melting on your tongue; cool, creamy custard shivering and slipping down your chin. Nothing feels as wonderful as icy lake water rippling over your sun-drenched summer skin like the smoothest silk, the softest fur. I always stop to remind myself that I am literally swimming, splashing, in a colossal chasm carved by a melting glacier thousands of years ago. I like to imagine that somewhere in the great depths around me there is still meltwater left from that giant block of ice, and I am swimming in a literal sea of time, and tears and tide. A sobering thought.

July bleeds blazing and burning into early August and the calendar looms, futile and forlorn. The end is near. The countdown begins: how many days left to savor and soak, relish and revel? Soon it all begins again, a new school year, a new routine, always busier than the last.

It isn't that I dislike Fall, it's just that Autumn comes with so many expectations. Summer takes you as you are, wraps you up in warmth, welcomes your lounging, lazy days, sets no boundaries or rules. Fall sweeps you away in a churning current of rigidity: schedules, schools, carpools, homework, sports and activities. Gone are the park picnics and pool days, replaced by rushing school days. And while I love crisp apples, fuzzy hooded sweatshirts, pumpkin pie and crunchy leaves...none of it holds a candle to a balmy, breezy summer night with the scent of campfire hanging heavy in the air.

Summer, I applaud you. I have one more week to sing your praises and celebrate your swan song before Autumn's requisition rushes in. And I shall cherish every moment. Until next June...a medley of summer's bounty: