Here it is, the end of summer, the last splash before the rush of the fall and the change in the air when the high pressure from the north starts to push the cooler air from Canada down our way.
The end of summer, when the children's pool that opened up in the newly-restored playground across the street from us will drain its chlorinated turquoise brew to reopen sometime around Independence Day 2008. (Sidebar: Hooray, hooray for new public places and spaces, that I have elsewhere commented seem to be so few.)
The end of summer, when there's a kind of melancholia in the air. The title of a collection of short stories by the Irish American novelist James T. Farrell echoes in my mind: Can All This Grandeur Perish? The answer: Of course, not only can it perish, it surely will. And we with it.
Oh drat. There I go, melancholic again.
The Buddhist and Hindu traditions both recommend meditating on the idea of one's death. And the Puritan preachers of the Massachusetts' Bay Colony suggested imagining yourself on your deathbed, looking back over your life. I'm not going to go that far, but will just look back over one summer, this one, and say adieu to some of the summer's delights . . . .
- watching Sweet M splash in the public pool, with all of a summer afternoon's joyous commotion, and she is completely unperturbed by the splashing of others (this is a change)
- dicing summer-super-ripe heirloom tomatoes into a vinagrette for a one-vegetable salad
- microwaving sweet white corn in the husks, the perfect microwaveable container
- staying up late with Sweet M because there's no need to get up at 6:30 to drag oneself off to a school bus
- water sliding with Sweet M, even with a mangled toe
- trying to get up in time to catch the full eclipse of the moon, but dozing back to sleep for just a bit too long
- lots of excuses to eat ice cream
- family reunions and Fourth of July parties where Sweet M can roll out entirely new and unexpected behaviors
- the discovery of a new ice cream, Ronnybrook Farms Ginger Creme Brulee ice cream — so good I wish it were in the local supermarket or back in stock at Fresh Direct
- getting the perfect shade of pink toenail polish for the season's last pedicure
- and the fire escape garden, this year also rendered in pink, in honor of Sweet M's favorite color
Next list: what I'm looking forward to in the fall . . . .