“Bye-bye, so long, farewell…See you in September, See you when the summer's through….” --recorded by “The Happenings”, written by Wayne and Edwards, 1966
I already miss the summer.
I miss…having little need for an alarm clock much of the past two months or so. I miss oh so sweet corn slathered in butter and oh so juicy tomatoes fresh off the vine. I’m already missing hot dogs at the ballpark and soft serve ice cream melting on my hand. I miss early morning bike rides as the mist rises off the meadows when the roads are so quiet, so deserted, so safe. I already miss a schedule that is not jam packed. I want to continue enjoying summer with space and time to just be, to breathe, to not feel like life is so chock full of so many things to do and to do TODAY. No time to waste!
I miss writing postcards from places on my road trips. From Bethlehem, New Hampshire, a gem of a town, just around the corner from where the Old Man in the Mountain once lived. How about Ithaca, New York, with the Baseball Hall of Fame just around the corner or Kennebunkport, Maine, and its down east charm. Don’t forget Cleveland, Ohio and Elizabethtown, Kentucky too. So many destinations on summer road trips. Many miles to go before I sleep on a balmy summer night, fireflies lighting up the evening and stars strewn across a dark August sky.
This is what happens to me as the end of August looms large. Every year I end up missing summer even before it is over. Call it August anxiety or a late August lament. On the one hand I am so grateful to God for coming up with summer in the first place (nice job!) but on the other hand I’m also asking (ok begging) God for just a few more precious summer days to enjoy.
I know that if you want to get all technical, summer 2023 is not close to over. It doesn’t end until Saturday, September 23rd, and that’s three weeks and change away. Yet calendar and schedule wise, for many of us, summer will actually conclude at one minute past midnight, on Tuesday, September 5th, the day after Labor Day. One last long weekend in the sun. The day after the last true summer cookout. Then there are families with kids who mark summer’s end with school’s start. Some kids return to classrooms pre-Labor Day and some post-Labor Day. But when the children and college students hit the books, summer is absolutely, positively, completely kaput. The return of yellow school buses to the streets and orange U-Hauls jamming up downtown Boston are signs that summer is gone, gone, gone.
Yes, I know that there are some in this world for whom summer’s demise is not so bittersweet. Like the retired, the ones freed from the 9 to 5 routine. Or folks who no longer must go to school or whose offspring have graduated and moved away. Also, the happy go lucky ones who actually enjoy the coming cold and chill of a late September evening with frost just around the corner. That’s okay for them but for me, summer is always the bees’ knees.
As I write this kvetch on the 25th day of August, I should not be so quickly anticipating the end of my favorite season. I should be reveling in the time left for summer 2023, right? Time for one more sweet sausage sandwich at Fenway Park and yes, this year the Sox may still be relevant and in contention come September. We can only hope and pray…God: please don’t let our Red Stockings turn into manilla folders come the 9th month.
So, my advice (that I should also heed) is simple and direct. Get out there and summer however you can and do it quickly. The divine gift that is the fair season may be fast dwindling away, but still, there are a few sips still left in the August bottle, sips of cold beer after mowing the lawn. Wearing flip flops or better yet, going barefoot. Rocking in the hammock. Reading a book on the beach ‘til the sun goes down.
September is surely on the way, but for now? Let’s savor summer.
