I could last night, walking back to my car in the cool evening air after dinner out with Jimmy. What happened to the dog days of summer, to the warm, velvety nights alive with promise and the cacophony of cicadas?
Summer seems to have evaporated like early morning dew fighting the scrutiny of a hot sun on its way to another scorcher of a day.
The change is visible, too.
Have you seen the Halloween candy creeping onto the store shelves like little ghosts and goblins reveling in all the mischief surrounding this push to kick summer to the curb? It’s downright spooky!
Don’t get me wrong. I love the change of seasons. Fall is downright glorious! Who wouldn’t like gathering round a bonfire and roasting marshmallows in the name of chocolate bars and Graham crackers. But fall also means old man winter is knocking at my door, too, ready for his own brand of mischief. Fall is much too bittersweet for my liking. I say we hang on to summer for all it's worth.
If spring is all about new life, all about hope, then summer is the glorious zenith of all of life’s hopes and dreams, the leg of the journey squarely between beginning and end.
Holy flip flops! Who in their right mind really wants to see summer come to an end? Oh sure, there’s a contingent of moms out there no longer of sound mind following ten weeks of non-stop activities for all the little ghosts and goblins. Those moms are chomping at the bit to say goodbye to the loosey-goosey lifestyle of summer and the mischief at the center of all the mayhem.
I know. Kids need structure, moms need some well-deserved peace and quiet. Believe me, I get it. I raised three kids of my own, took on two more with Jimmy. But right now, I need another helping of sweet corn on the cob, another slice of juicy watermelon, another round of lawns freshly mowed and manicured before God’s green earth goes cold and dormant. Perish the thought!
News flash! Summer doesn’t officially end until September 22.