Summer Residue

Summer ResidueIn honor of the cooling temperatures and a heavy, much-needed rain last night, I broke out the first autumn candle and burned it. With the sweet, heavy scent released throughout the house, other August memories came flooding back. This time of year holds boughs laden with melancholy for me. Preparing the kids for back to school, squeezing every last drop out of summer with last minute drives to the beach, eating fresh Michigan peaches right out of the orchards, sticky juice dripping down my fingers. All of my heart cries, “It’s time! Time to wrap up another summer and begin a new season.”

Here is a little post from six years ago written as I sat on the deck on an August evening:

“I quietly step outside once again before night descends upon this late August evening. The air is subtly different now, unlike midsummer nights, signaling the upcoming change. The steady drone of cicadas remains unbroken, providing a comforting background for my evening rendezvous with the early stars. I inhale deeply and remind myself to memorize the moment to savor some dark, dreary December day. There is no turning back now. Summer silently slips away from Michigan’s grasp like sand through her fingers. Autumn quivers with anticipation behind the curtain awaiting her debut.”