For some reason this month, I'm finding it harder than usual to accept Summer's gradual exit. I'm notoriously an Autumn girl. I adore Fall clothing, sports and the crispness that the air brings. Suntanning and perspiring profusely top my list of pet-hates. I actually begrudge the odd bit of tan that I do have - obtained by daily walks with my dog - being pale is what I *do*. But this year, I let all the goodness of Summer wash over me. I couldn't get enough - I finally made it my friend.
I think the main reason for my brief sojourn into Summer bliss is down to my Mum. She loved the warmth of these months. She would spend hour upon hour in her beautiful garden, tending to its every minute need. Perhaps I was channeling her joy of the season in an attempt to feel her presence?
Mum's passing in March meant that she'd never get to prolong her love affair with the Summer. The fact that she was robbed of this small pleasure breaks my heart. She would have been so thrilled with the heat, and made due with the lack of rain. Summer last year she spent primarily in hospital, and once she came home, Mother Nature decided to give us a lukewarm August - definitely nothing to get excited about.
A part of me thinks that perhaps this year, Mum pulled Mother Nature aside and told her to create a Summer that would make her proud - one that would get her loved ones outside, into the fresh air - and away from being stuck indoors feeling melancholy and alone. It's true that a sunny, warm day does raise the spirits - it doesn't erase the pain of missing someone so badly, but it does make you feel a little bit more peaceful and happy... even if it's for just a short spell.
The fountains and reflecting pools at our neighbourhood reservoir park are no longer flowing. I actually had to wear a sweater *and* a jacket for my afternoon trek with my dog today. Without a doubt, Summer is taking its leave, and it hurts this time more than ever.
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