Good-bye Summer

There are people in my family who find it hard to say good-bye to summer. Summer is their preferred time of year; they’ve even offered to trade my summer birthday for theirs, so they can have their birthday party pool side instead of inside. I don’t share their enthusiasm. In fact, you’ll find me inside when it’s hot, humid, buggy, sunny, sweaty, and uncomfortable outside.

But when obligation calls, I will work outside and sweat like a swine with little complaint (I complain some, but not too much). I accept those conditions; but to stand outside minding my own business and feel perspiration run down my back toward my beltline is not something I like.  When the sun is beating down I will run for cover, seeking even shadows for shade to escape its death rays.

But as the temperature cools and the bugs leave on a south bound bus, I find myself wanting to be outside.  I love wearing my Eddie Bauer zip-up hooded sweatshirt (a birthday gift from my daughter, Jennifer), watching the leaves get whipped up by the wind, and even “seeing my breath,” on a snappy morning.  I think I may be in the minority, however.

Someone once said to me “I hate fall – I know what’s coming . . . winter.”  That’s as true in June as it is in October.  The only time winter is not coming is when it’s here. You may as well say “I hate middle-age – I know what’s coming. . . death.”

Many people seem to treasure their spring and summer more than their fall and winter. As Don Henley sang “…there’s just so many summers…and just so many springs.”  Of course, the same is true for fall and winter; there are only so many of each.  Each season holds it own charm, its own place.

We run outside in the summer without a jacket. A sport coat can be comfortably worn in the fall, satisfying both form and function. In the winter, the ground is covered with beautiful snow. Then spring comes, and we throw off the heavy blanket of winter.

So now, officially, fall is here (or autumn if you prefer). Soon I can enjoy a Saturday afternoon of guilt-free reading with not too many outside chores calling me. Soon I can swing the splitting maul in cool weather, fill the wood box, light the stove and grab a book.

I have a friend who seems to enjoy every season. Ron Beckman of Jordan is happy whether he’s sitting in a dugout coaching baseball, holding the down marker on the chain-gang for a home football game or watching a basketball game from the bleachers.  But his happiness is not exclusively dependent on sports.  Recently he reminded me of a night seven-years ago where he and I stood outside around a fire and drank hot apple cider while we waited for his wife and her friends to give my house the once-over as part of a holiday home tour.  “It was one of the best times I’ve had,” he said. I agreed,we had enjoyed ourselves on that chilly December night.

So good-bye summer, see you next year; hello autumn, I know what’s coming . . . winter and another gift from Jennifer – the birth of my first grandchild.