What Happened to Summer?
Seriously, I can only remember about five things taking place during this summer and now hear it is fall. And, not just like the start of school, but I can see Halloween from here autumn. It’s my idea that more and more everyone is trying to cram all of their activities for the entire year into the five months between May and September. Forget about rain, it’s too difficult to ask someone to drive across town (much less the all-too-familiar drive across three counties) for anything in February. Maybe that’s why March makes everyone start to feel like they’re losing their minds. By that time, we’ve all been dealing with a long list of unknowns with the weather for so long it seems commonplace (and certainly, like it’s not going to end any time soon). How many times have even the most mundane of excursions - like to the PetSmart at Chapel Hill - become a driving nightmare involving hills (that never seem so steep in June) and piles of ice. Looking for a parking place at the gym is exponentially difficult as all of the students realize that they’ve been living on beer and Combos for months and spring break is only weeks away. Plus, any plowed up snow acquires its own parking area - bullying out any waiting vehicles.
I want to be positive - and it is a little ridiculous to be crying about winter when it’s still in the 60s. But I know it’s coming. The first day of June makes me sad because I know winter is up next. The local PBS channel is already airing Christmas specials (I know they’re pledging Manheim Steamroller, it makes no difference) and everything in my yard is dead (except for that tomato I ate yesterday - although, I think it might have turned). This is not to say that I’m running off to Florida. Summer is only special for the presence of winter (the year I spent in FL was one long, monotonous bore with giant bugs and lizards - no one should be hanging Christmas decorations in a tank top and shorts, it isn’t natural).
So, I will myself to joyously celebrate the coming of next summer. Sure, we’re bringing Garrison Keillor back to Blossom - but that’s only going to kill June and then I might actually have time for a vacation (this is not a dirty word). If we can do a 10-month countdown to Christmas, we can certainly do the same for fireflies and fireworks and swimming pools and Cedar Point and tomatoes and bike rides. Maybe we can make it be so that the seasons are only a state of mind, and mere thoughts of long days and breezes through the trees will override driving to Cleveland in 6 inches of snow, getting up early to scrape the car, layers and layers and layers and layers. Maybe.