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A Love Letter to a New England Summer

August 25, 2017

It is nearly midnight but I don’t want to go to bed. Because when I wake up, it will be the last Friday of summer and it will all be over. On Monday it will be school, and schedule, and routine. 

This summer, our first full summer in New England, was extraordinary. It was full of all the things that summer should be. Swimming and sunburns and mosquito bites. Add a dash of poison ivy because it is, well, everywhere and to go without it is to never walk in the woods and what kind of life would that be?

It was ice cream and warm rain, cut grass and baby goats. It was small town parades and eating outside, food trucks on the parkway and the farmer’s market. It was plane rides to faraway places, heavy lidded boys with brown cheeks and tousled hair. It was air thick with humidity and sweating as you step out of the shower. It was a little work, a lot of play, staying up too late and sleeping in too long. 

It was all that summer should be.

But now, it’s over. 

Fall is peeking around the corner. The forecast proves it. She’s ready for her turn in the spotlight and we love her, we really do, but summer….

A New England summer isn’t anything like those long, drawn out seasons of the west. She’s only here a moment, and when she’s gone, she’s gone and she’s not reappearing for a long, long, LOOOONG time. 

Tonight I’ve got the windows open. The crickets, a cacophony outside my window. Tomorrow will be back packs and school supplies, sharpened pencils and notebooks. It will be laundering all the new school clothes and pulling the long-sleeved shirts and jeans from the back of the closet and drawers. (It will also be astonishment at how much their feet can grow in three months, but I digress.) Tomorrow will belong to fall and I’ll have to put on a sweater to walk them to the bus stop on Monday. 

But tonight…tonight belongs to summer and to the crickets and to me. 

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