Surrendering Summer

Surrendering Summer

Auntie Fran at the River House, all rights reserved, Lila Salasin, 1970

Ask around and you’ll find that I have a hard time surrendering summer, and that’s putting it mildly. As soon as we pass the Summer Solstice and the days begin to grow shorter, my pond cronies tease me about the sun dropping behind the mountain a minute earlier each night.

As flirtatious June heats up into toasty July and then releases into cooling August, true friends hush others when words like “autumn” or “school ” are spoken in my vicinity; while others openly mourn along with me.

But this year is different, at least this morning–midway through September. Today, I am willingly relinquishing my rules for prolonging summer (and I am almost welcoming the changes the new season brings.)

Maybe I’ve evolved. Or maybe this is just an intermission of enlightenment, and tomorrow I’ll be back to my old ways–chasing after summer with flip flips or pond dinners and alternately taking her departure personally.

It may be that I’ve had my fill of sadness this summer–from my son’s diving accident at the pond; to my best friend’s collision at the beach; to the loss of innocence at our community Co-op; to the devastation that rocked my state.

I don’t want to spend any more time being sad. I feel so much appreciation and love and tenderness; and in the grace of that flow, even I can surrender summer.

Kelly Salasin, Marlboro, VT 05344