Summer

This is it. Say goodbye to summer. We camped our last, water funned our last, sun burned our last until next year. The pop-up has been parked, the bug spray buried under the sink in bathroom, and the life vests neatly stowed away.

My first grader goes to school tomorrow. Fall sports season is already underway. Mom’s back on her normal schedule. My fall travel schedule is filling already. It took all of about 45 seconds to switch gears. Sad really.

There should be a ceremony or something to mark this day. Shouldn’t there? You can’t let a summer like we’ve just had pass so unceremoniously, marked only by the occasional anecdotal remembrance going forward, or maybe picking up the odd photo album every now and again.

No. We should build an altar on cedar and birch kindling, place a huge S’more atop, and set it ablaze. Around the pyre we should do the chigger jump and mosquito slap dance while singing She’ll Be Comin’ Round The Mountain in a trancelike incantation.

Yeah, maybe not, but what a great summer. I will miss going to sleep to the sounds of katydids and cicadas, and the smell of the camper's cocktail(bug spray, sunblock, and wood smoke). We’ve got all fall and winter to think of an appropriate encore.

This one might be hard to top…