I’m admittedly the only person on the internet who isn’t like, “Hooray, fall!!11! I love sweaters!!” because, while I respect your love of sweaters, I REALLY LIKE SLEEVELESS TANKS. I love going outside barefoot. I love feeling sunlight warm my skin. I love simple life and simple living. Summmmahtiiiime and the living in eaaasy!
But, it’s September 3rd.
You know what? Autumnal Equinox = SEPTEMBER 22.
And I’m going to love on this summer all I want. Just because classes started doesn’t mean summer is over. It just means classes started.
Also. I have an adult job. I go to work year-round, kids.
(It’s not that bad. You’ll love it.)
I’m going to list things that I think are beautiful about these final days of summer.
1. Food-stuffs abundance.
My parental units bought a BOX of fresh peaches from the Farmer’s Market. The type that you eat with a napkin or over a sink because that juice spills out and everywhere and we all know that Oxi-clean works wonders but even that special white laundry-powder won’t undue the love between fabric and peach juice.
Why to poets excel bird song so above bug song? Maybe because people don’t like bugs, I don’t know.
Listen. Right now.
There are hums and chirps of the insects…subtle and symphonic. All the different parts in harmony.
I honestly wish I could sing along.
Probably because we’re all on the same page of, “Holy crap, these days are perfection, but winter is coming and WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE because the COLD GRIPS THE HEART WITH HER ICY FINGERS good thing the golden light of the setting sun and the scent of the late-summer flowers and the brush of the cool wind are here to remind us of all that is good.”
I don’t know all the words, though.
Which is why I don’t sing along.
Wish I did, dagnabbit.
I went to the park on Monday to write and the sky was SO BLUE of blue-blue-blue and the grass was SO GREEN. I wanted to take a picture but I was like, “I would need to up the saturation for them to understand the shades, and then the readers wouldn’t believe me because it would look too green and too blue and too beautiful.”
But, it was.
4. Summer days.
I feel like they hug me like a mother-y-nature-lady and I’m a little kid with a sticky peach-juice face and tan arms with my hair bleached blonder than usual.
5. Summer nights.
“Those summer niiiii-iiiiights!”
Tonight I rode my bike home from adoration and I could smell the lingering scent of someone’s barbequed steak mixed with probably three campfires. Bug-song, clear night, and I could see some of my favorite constellations. Hello, friends.
6. Sacramental Grace.
Veering off topic a little bit.
I went to confession today because I screw things up consistently. This church wasn’t my reg hangout, so I had to ask a kid where the line was for confession, and then there wasn’t the option for face-to-face (my preference), so instead I knelt on the cushiest cushion ever and whispered things through a thumb-tacked linen napkin whilst shrouded in a velvet curtain (can you guess if it was toasty in there? I’ll give you a hint: it was).
I had examined my conscience, but I’ve done better in the past and while I was sitting there explaining one of the instances, one of the things on my list straight slipped my mind.
Only, I knew the number of sins I had come in with, mind you, but I couldn’t remember the particulars of the last one on the list. Dagnabbit.
So then I was like, “Aaaaaand, there is another one but I forgot. Darn it (another point for halfway cussing!).”
And then I started sweating because this guy doesn’t know me and I look like a newb.
But: false! In persona Christi!
The priest started speaking.
Keep in mind the linen napkin, so I couldn’t see his face.
But he had an African accent and his voice was gravely, like an older gentleman. Imagine Morgan Freeman but more intense.
I could hear the mass outside of the confessional, they were remembering the crucifixion in prayer, and here was this man offering me the mercy of God.
“At the end of every day,” he said, “Look back on your day and ask yourself, ‘Did I do a good job in making this day more beautiful?'”
I get all the best confessors.
7. Also doesn’t tie into anything.
But: layered skirts. I make a Pinterest board today. I’m hooked.
8. I’m reading “Story of a Soul” because Father Pio Maria told me to even though I whined like a leetle baby and this was way back in January and I’m only doing it now but instead of disliking it I actually really like it and I had to write him an apologetic email.
“My only desire now is to love Jesus even to folly.”
^By the Little Flower herself.
Doesn’t that make you smile?
OK, fine, if not that: what does make you smile?
About summer, late-summer.
We can talk about fall on September 22nd.