August is the Sunday of Summer

As a kid I hated Sundays because the next day was Monday (and there were no cartoons on Sunday morning). It’s bad when you start worrying about Sunday on Saturday or even Friday, which is what I am doing now. It’s July 18th and I am thinking about August because September comes after August. This reminds me of stressing about Christmas when Halloween decorations start to appear. One year I considered buying Christmas presents December 26th but I decided to hold off until the 24th. All this is to say that I love summer, mountains, wildflowers, lakes, birds, granite, Lodge pole pines, Jeffery pines (they smell like candy), Red firs, Mountain ash, Quaking aspen, Marmots, and I don’t like it when summer threatens to end, which it does before it begins. The day after the longest day of the year is the beginning of the (quick) march toward the shortest day of the year. And the dumb-head in me thinks about how June 22nd is a slightly shorter day than June 21st. But optimistically I think about how December 22nd is slightly longer than the 21st. That is when I start thinking about and looking forward to summer. Once I told my dad that I whished I could go to sleep in September and wake up in June. He yelled at me not to wish to miss any of my life. “But what about the school parts?” I thought.