Summer is a strange season. After 6 months of cold and almost nill outdoor activities, summer arrives and hands to you all the time in the world. The sun sets at 9, and each stretched hour of daylight seems intended only to be spent outdoors. The days start early, the birds making it earlier still. Many a late nights I’ve wondered what excites these feathered beasts to chirp so happily at the forsaken hour before dawn. Then one day I saw the dawn.. and the chirping made sense.
I haven’t been fortunate enough to have all my summer days to while away though, I do have to work. I’ve no regrets however and the occassional hours by the pond on a weekend make up for the hours spent indoors working. Even watching the wind and the clouds from through a window feels good. The trees are green, the wind is wholesome, the stream runs full and the clouds drift gently by. Afternoon smell of cookouts, picnics and maybe an ice cream or two. As evening approaches, frisbess fly wild and free, eventually followed by fireflies that slowly simmer from the ground into the long dusk that follows. The occasional thunderstorms quench such a yearning in your heart, by just listening to the thunder and watching the rain pelt down on the green surroundings around you. This is of course, an american summer. We don’t appreciate summer as much in India; a) cause its warm all year round and you can do what you please; b) summer’s hot and dry, and we’d rather wait for monsoons.
What joy, in being able to breath freely the air, to walk in meadows with cows for company and to watch the slow spectacle of the sun setting. This is only topped by being able to bike anywhere you please and being greeted by a verdant scene at every turn you take. What a wonderful season. Our days are packed with sunlight and a spirit of adventure.. be it while biking, trekking, boating or just being outdoors. And as it is with any gift in life that overwhelms you, summer brings to me a sense of loss. A sense that the days are passing by too quick, that the hours are melting away, and that the minute remains unfulfilled. A sense that I cannot hold time. But of course, nature never meant it for time to stay. Last I knew, she was a stickler for the cycle go on and on. Summer shall pass, the glorious evenings shall make way to the crisp dusk of autumn. A white, frosty winter and a cold spring shall make appearances before summer can come again. I know. But I still wish I could enjoy each minute of this glorious season a little more. Every unseized moment seems to me a terrible loss. But maybe that will change. Maybe, before the season’s end an ordinary evening stroll shall allow me to make peace with summer’s departure. Like Thoreau had said “..till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, so warm and serene and golden as on a bank-side in autumn.” Oops, summer :).