“A little bit of summer makes for a lot of history.”  John Mayer

In most of America, summer ended last Monday on Labor Dy.  In my hometown, it ended last night with the close of the Popcorn Festival and here in my neighborhood, it ends today with the finish of Family Fest.

Is there anything like the summer?  It is eternal and vigorous.  It is mountains, beaches, playgrounds, festivals, long kisses, concerts, farmer’s markets, fireworks, gin, and microbrews.  It is driving for hours across vast America and standing outside and looking at the stars.    It is a few days that make a lot of history.

Now demarcation.  I can stare out my window and if I look hard enough see tinges of yellow on a few trees.  At noon it is Bears vs. Bengals….home vs. home state.   (Go Bears…..I’m only conflicted when they play the Browns.)  I should probably offer up a litany for the fall with the likes of apple cider and hayrides, but the summer ends for me today and deserves one more post or at least a paragraph.

It is too easy to say this summer was not kind.  I’ve said that often enough, but what I meant is it gave me no time away.  It did give me a great realization, though.  I realize I love what I call my Mediterranean heart.  I think of all the babies born this year; they are here because of Mediterranean hearts. And in my lowest moment of the summer, I was able to leave my office and walk outside where I had a smoke if only because a little pleasure could be had in the nicotine.  There I saw the laughing couple going down Devon wearing their warm hearts on their sleeves.  They did not seem to care if the world noticed their silliness.  I thought that took great courage; the kind of courage only a warm heart could be capable of.  I took joy in their joy and realized I had many summer stories that made for a very great history and now their laughter was at least a small part of that history.

 

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