There comes a time when summer ends. We all know it’s true. And it isn’t when you expect it.
Summer ends with fireworks in July, when friends and family gather. We celebrate the freedom of our country by grilling brats and guzzling beer. We stay up late to watch colorful explosions in the sky. After, we collect our blankets and chairs like squirrels gathering nuts for winter. We ignore our neighbors, pushing through the zombified crowds to make it home.
Some freedom we have.
Summer ends with a gentle turn of the page–July to August. If July went by in a skip, August will sprint away. Like unwanted wishes, school supplies appear for sale overnight. Stomachs of students knot at the thought of returning to prison in the fall. They beg for another stretch of summer, to return to June. To feel free and not abuse that first wistful month of summer.
But summer always ends.
Summer ends before you know it. It leaks away the moment it’s bottled. From May to August, time feels eternal. It’s the delusion of the young. We live without plans and plan to live without rules and responsibilities–at least for a few months.
So wish on dandelions. Watch the corn grow. Summer is just a season, a temporal thing. Don’t abuse or misuse the time left. Summer always ends, but that doesn’t mean it’s over.
And summer always comes again.