I've loved you. The beautiful colors and the fresh produce and the thick thunderstorms rolling in at night. You've given me time to rest and think.
We've had our time at the lake -- a yearly thing -- that seems so long ago now. Such a glorious week of eating and playing cards and relaxing and fishing and doing nothing at all.
Summer, you're a celebration of friends and family. Laughter and holding hands. Icecream at nine. Dangling feet in the water off the dock.
But, dear summer, I'm starting to get ready for fall. I know, I know, how could that be? How could I want to give up the afternoons spent swinging and looking at the leaves swaying in the muggy breeze?
You see, summer what I love most about you is the lack of structure. The freedom. The days that blur together. The late soccer evenings and even {gasp} those pesky moquitoes to complain about.
But, now, I'm craving just a little bit more order in my house.
I'm maybe a-little-bit-sort-of-ready for crisp breezes and eager kids wanting to learn.
I want to pull out those books and talk about the water cycle and how amazing it is that God created the world in just six days -- and then He rested. I'm ready to drill math facts.
And harvest apples. And go to the orchard. And hear the crunch of leaves underfoot.
Summer, I love you. You're a needed and craved after season in my life. I'll miss all the lovely colors of produce that you provide. Oh and the corn. I'll miss that fresh corn. And of course, I'll miss those lazy hazy days of summer -- no wonder there's a song about you.
Don't worry. Come April and May I'll know I'll be counting the days until you come again.
Wait. I know I'll be counting those days in January. And summer, just so you know, your letter is much nicer than the letter I write to winter -- that letter is basically thanking it for finally leaving. I mean, because seriously -- look at the picture of winter. I am so not ready for that.
Ah, summer. Such a blessing. Seeing that picture of winter makes me want you to stay around some more. Lots more -- I'm sure I'll love winter when it comes. But, not yet. No. Not at all.
So summer, I'm going to live in joy these last couple weeks. Embracing the fabulous gifts you bring. The freedom and laughter and even the fun and excitement in planning for the fall. Summer you are joy.
And, between you and me, you just might be the best.
~me
{what would you write about summer?}
