Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Ode to Summer...

June how I doth love thee... You are a beacon of hope at the end of a long journey. Even when the temperatures in our old school soar into the hundred degree mark, you nudge us along, gently, with the promise of a well deserved rest. You are the enveloping hug of warmth after 8 months of cold and chilly weather, the reason to get out of bed each grey, dreary day.

July oh sweet July, you are the prize at the end of the race, the trophy for a job well done. An entire month of vacation. 4 weeks of sunshine and sandy bathing suits and sticky fingers. You bring with you the rest that only long blissful days can provide, a renewed energy and a sense of normalcy that has been previously missing. Sweet July, thank you for the warm breezes and long lazy days.

August, you dog days of summer, how I hold you in contempt. Your first few weeks bring a sort of wistful happiness. The sounds of the county fair, warm waters to play in at the lake, and anniversary celebrations. How I love you early August, in your quiet deceptive way. But mid-August, oh mid-August, your trickery is wearing me down. On these loveliest of days when the humidity has finally broken and the temperature has returned to a more bearable level... you bring with you mayhem and madness. Children who have spent far too much time with each other and have resorted to name calling and teasing. Children who have had too much free time, and are chomping at the bit to get back to school. So they nag and whine and crawl the walls and if I hear one more time in that screechy voice, "mooooooooooooooooooooooom s/he's bothering meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" I might just desert you for the cold days of winter. There is a silent anxiety of returning to hallowed halls of learning, the torture of waiting to renew friendships, and a general moodiness that only shows its face at this most turbulent time of year.

Summer, thank you for being such a dear old friend. I have stored your memories deep inside my heart, to pull out during those cold dark days of February when I feel like I can't possibly go on a single day more. I will do my best to enjoy these last few weeks, and I promise to spend some time with you each afternoon after the final bell rings. Please don't rush away too soon, and if it's not too much trouble, could you please arrive a little sooner next year. We will miss you.

1 comment:

Angie said...

this was neat! hehe