Thursday, August 2, 2012

August

August is cloudy heat. A good chunk of my childhood August memories are humid and cloudy. And rainy. The endless of sun of July gives way to more instability. Sure, the gorgeous days are still there. But so are the storms, and the drab.

Desperation is August. The summer is winding down, and there is only so much time to cram in everything you wanted to do during the last two months. Or to do one last time before September. One last day to the waterpark. One last ball game. One last walk to get a snow cone or frozen yogurt. One last trip out town.  One last summer adventure.

August is earlier nights, later mornings. August is indifference, especially as a Cubs fan -- by this time in most years, my team is already out of it. August is bittersweet.

August is anticipation, sometimes good, sometimes bad. You anticipate the cooler weather, but you know the cooler weather will eventually give way to cold weather. You anticipate football season, again knowing that football season will end in the winter. You anticipate school, for good and for bad. For someone who loves summer such as myself, I know how excited the boys will be when school starts again, but I wish I had them a few weeks longer. And when they begin to dread school starting again, August will be bittersweet for them as well.

August is "After the Love Is Gone" by Earth, Wind and Fire, "Hands to Heaven" by Breathe and "Go Insane" by Lindsay Buckingham. It's fantasy football magazines and trees that look a little exhausted. It's "Risky Business" and "The Commitments."

August eventually asks the question: "How was your summer?"

August is transition. I remember being so nervous starting high school in August, and being so awestruck when leaving home for my freshman year of college in August.

The summer may be great, but it can't last. August reminds me that the craziness will return. The chauffeuring, the busy days, the crazy weekends, the things in our lives that we need to function, to grow, to learn -- things we so desperately try to get through yet relish at the same time. Things that go too fast.

Inevitability. The most inevitable month of the year.

This is August.

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