Now that the sun has tinged me with some color, and I’ve decided not to throw in the towel for this summer, a second wind arrives to lift my sails and carry us through the rest of the golden season. A summer rescue mission, if you will, to save and salvage the hefty chunk of sun and heat that remains possible – still present to burn and astound.
This sort of mid-to-late season epiphany is usually reserved for a Scrooge-like redemption scene nearer to the holidays, but there’s room for salvation at any time of the year, should one’s heart be ready and open. Summer is made for second chances, for getting back up after you’ve been knocked down – by a rainstorm, by a wind gust, by the general battering of life at this particularly problematic point in time. It’s an opportunity to try again, without rush, without hurry – because while summer never lasts quite as long as we’d like, it always lasts longer than we think it does.
That means there’s still time to turn things around – and a decent amount of time at that. Summer is the promise of spring fulfilled; promises do not always deliver the way we anticipate – that whole ‘careful what you wish for’ thing rearing its tricky, infuriating head. (Hard to find good head these days, as you know better than me.)
Summer sauciness is back, and I’m feeling like myself again.
Summer sassiness never left.
