Summer Is Tired

After a few weeks’ hiatus, a blank page is daunting.

Summer is tired.  My sunflowers are reaching high, and my mid-summer flowers have succumbed to the head.  The weeds are healthy. 

The rabbits are fat.  Many of my plants are missing; the rabbit salad bar has cost me hundreds of dollars over the last few years.  Rabbits don’t like sedum.  Rabbits don’t like hot pepper.  I need to invest substantially in one or the other if I want brown-eyed Susans, lavender, hostas, or ten other types of tender perennials that I see in full bloom as I’m driving around town.  I miss the fox family that lived on our property in 2012.

Many of the planned visits, travels, camps, events that I logged onto our summer calendar in January and February have passed.  We have one more grand hurrah visit left for the summer with Bill’s sister and her family arriving next week.  In the meantime, I’ve already turned to look at the empty squares on the fall, winter, and spring calendar, getting ready to start that planning exercise again.

The marching band started practicing this week at the nearby high school – a sure sign of cooler temperatures ahead.  We’re stepping closer to that familiar life patter that fall brings with it.  With 8th and 11th graders, there are five years remaining of that built-in fall to spring march.

We’ve had travels and visits so sweet that I’m in a bit of a rut, a melancholy lull, wandering this house that echoes at points where people gathered this summer.  Those memories are anchored a bit with remnants – like sea glass, a little beach sand on the deck, and leftovers in the fridge. 

Finally, three days after my brother and his family went home, I cleaned out the fridge, getting rid of small bits and pieces of old food.  I smiled at the drink assortment in the fridge leftover from company in July and August – iced teas, sparkling waters, and one Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee.  I envision little faces of family and friends stamped on the sides, similar to the way Paul Newman’s salsa jars have his smiling mug. 

Normally, we move all the non-Malcolm drinks to the basement beer fridge when company leaves.  But I think I’ll let these unopened summer drinks linger haphazardly in the fridge.  Seeing them keeps summer’s memories fresh.