Or Farewell, Spring, perhaps. Saying goodbye to cooler temperatures, the bold chirps of frogs, the bright yellow-green of new leaves makes me a little sad. It used to be that I loved summer, that I couldn’t wait for the season to arrive – for obvious reasons – no school or work or obligations (hard to imagine a time like that existed) only long, lazy days of snoozing in the hammock, getting lost in books, trudging around in the deep, green woods behind my childhood home, staying up late, and 10-hour days at the local swimming pool. Spending so much time diving and splashing that the smell of chlorine on my skin lingered into fall; my fingertips were wrinkled raisins, and at night in bed I could feel and hear the water still sloshing around in my ears.
Summer now – here in Oklahoma – is a time to hide away from the relentless glare of the sun and the heavy blanket of humidity – air that blasts and steamrollers its way up from the Gulf of Mexico. Kel and I stay indoors from noon to about 7 pm and then we emerge cautiously, tender eyes blinking in the still bright evening sun that lingers over the tree line to the east. Only a few months to wait until winter.