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Sunday, March 31, 2013

the last day of summer

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I woke up with the phrase that I chose for the title of this post floating in my mind. For a while I lay awake, the sun softly filtering through the curtains. The recently discovered song posted above repeated itself to me and I sang quietly along.


It does feel like today is the last day of summer. It's not as fiercely hot any more. At night we've even started to sleep under a blanket again.

In the garden, the scraggy giant dahlias stand on shaky legs, pouring all remaining energy into producing just one more flower before it's too late. The lawns lose their colour in patches. Falling leaves flutter around in the cool breeze like sad butterflies. In the sky, clouds hurry off with no chance of rain.

The overgrown vegetable garden has finally started collapsing and we will soon be able to clear it out for new crops. Ants frantically search high and low for whatever food they can find and hastily carry it to the store rooms. Barn swallows prepare for their long journey to the budding summer on the other side of the world. 

The cats seek cosiness and warmth at this time; their usual aloofness replaced by liquid chocolate. When they are allowed outside they tranquilly meditate in the sunlight. The dogs, too, feel the change and search out the warmest spot of sun in which to bask in the morning. At night they snugly curl up under the blanket.

Now feels like a good time to pack away the things of summer. Farewell to the sun blazing in the bluest sky. Farewell to iridescent flowers and luscious lawns. To long evenings chatting outside, to violent afternoon thunderstorms and to an ice cold beer after mowing the lawns.


Together with our summer clothes I also choose to pack away things in our lives that will not be needed again soon. Au revoir, then, to the careless, good life. Now is the time for important changes. If I was a stranger walking into my own life at this moment, I would not like what I'd see.

This is a major undertaking. I shall have to drag The One, or he me, when one of us falls behind. When we have both fallen down, we shall hold and comfort one another until we can get up again. Then will summer return.

Written by I