August, Die She Must

Starfish in the Inter coastal

It is August 15th and the temperature this morning is a warm 57 degrees. The summer that wouldn't start has decided to depart early and we are already in early Autumn--which doesn't officially begin for over another month.

The pool is beginning to cool and my interest is waning in outdoor activities because of the coolness.

It is frustrating--the season that I most enjoy is fizzling around me and there is nothing I can do except sit on the deck in the evening with a glass of wine in my hand and enjoy the crisp autumn weather. 

I am beginning to feel like the starfish I imaged this summer, during July, who had crawled out of the receding tide and was hunting like a fish out of water, so to speak. Summer has been the same way. I've been looking for summer in all of the wrong places. 

At least I have been enjoying what summer there has been. I just wish there were more of it and that I could still feel the heat. I am reminded of the Paul Simon song April Come She Will, in which the final stanza is about the demise of summer:

August, die she must, 

The autumn winds blow chilly and cold; 

September I´ll remember. 

A love once new has now grown old.

-- Bob Doan, Elkridge, MD