When you read that title, you expect to read a sob story from a person mourning summer’s end. And I have to say, that is the sentiment for most of the Northeast population.
But not me. I am not a summer person. Though I appreciate some aspects of the season, most I don’t fancy.
At one point in time, I penned a piece that shouted loudly the beautiful feelings of summer. I recall an early morning when the sun was shining and the birds were singing, life feeling carefree and unencumbered. It was quite lovely. It seemed to last for an eternity, but it was only a few moments in time. Summer still eludes me.
I hate heat. I loathe humidity. Sweating should be optional, like when you’re working out.
My ode to summer is – it’s almost over. How I crave cool days, crisp and clear nights when the stars seem brighter than ever and the chill requires sweatshirts.
Pumpkin spice – not allowed before Labor Day. The grumps that accompany Indian summer, when heat finds its way back into our days.
Bring on October. Let the leaves fall to the ground as a New England summer finally recedes, fading into the sunset as the days grow shorter, and the nights longer.
The bustle of school days, eve of the holiday season.
Please hurry. There are some of us who anxiously await your arrival.
