Summer days, gone too soon

Autumn is definitely coming. The sky is dark by 8 o’clock now, and I’m seeing geese and starlings flocking. I can hear birds singing that I haven’t heard since the spring, which means they must be on the move from north to south.

I don’t know why the transition from summer to fall is my least favorite. I do like fall, with its warm days and cool nights. I love seeing the leaves change color, and I get back some of the energy that the hot, muggy days seem to steal from me. Still, it feels like I’m saying goodbye to the better part of the year. Fall into winter isn’t so bad—November can be so bleak and dreary that it’s nice to see the snow brightening things up. And winter into spring—well, how glad are we to see the trees bud out and green shoots come up through the earth? And spring into summer is so beautiful—the lilacs and peonies blooming, the happiness of warm, sunny days.

Summer holds a promise of freedom for me. Although I haven’t had a whole summer off since I was a teenager, in my head, there’s still the idea that it will be this wonderfully langorous time, lasting forever. I want to spend my days swimming in pools and lakes, the feel of hot concrete or grainy sand under my feet as I race into the water. I want to take afternoon naps in a darkened bedroom while the wind blows the curtains and slaps the window shade against the sill. I want to eat BLTs and pik-nik sticks for dinner because it’s too hot to turn on the oven. I want to walk through sunny fields with the spicy scent of flowers rising around me. Ah well, there’s always next year.