Summer afternoons: They’re more prized as they dwindle

“Summer afternoon — summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.”
— Henry James

There are things about late August and early September that seem to contradict each other: there’s a lull in the air, a permission to pause, the verdant smell of the garden. But there’s also a sense that a clock is ticking, and that the lushness around us — not to mention the warmth, the smell of neighbourly barbecue, the days of breezy driving with the windows down — are limited.

Yes, summer ends well into September with the equinox, it feels like it ends earlier in the month. As a kid, it was when school reopened. During my career, there was often a reset at the office that marched in step; at CBC, we planned for it accordingly, breathing a relief that vacations were ending and staffing got back to normal.

One of my childhood memories is from the middle school era, when I found that most of my friends in the neighbourhood were gone — out of town, likely with their families as parents squeezed out a vacation while they could. It’s a somewhat melancholy memory, one I’ve doubtless burnished over the years with the knowledge of how fleeting time can be. There’s even a limit on things like nightly games of spotlight, and how can you play when there’s hardly anyone else around?

This has been my first summer in retirement, and I have some thoughts. The weather in St. John’s has been typically inconsistent; rainy some days, full sun on others, windy and near-freezing at some points, sultry or muggy more recently. I usually booked two or three weeks in late July and early August, and when we were raising Nick, we often would hit the road for an adventure at home.

Much depended then on the weather. Now, it doesn’t matter nearly so much — which has been both a relief and a new way of relating to summer. It’s crappy out? Meh. It’s gorgeous out? Let’s be spontaneous and do something. Last evening, recognizing it was sunny, warm and lovely, Martha and I got some ice cream and drove along the coastlines, drinking in the scenery and postponing dinner to later. We both know it’ll be dark at that hour in a month or so, and there are not endless evenings like that one.

I saw this image of Snoopy (and Woodstock) with a hose — a defining bit of summer refreshment — on TeeFury. It struck a nerve of childhood memories.

In this stage of my life, a lazy afternoon or twilight of a summer evening can be magic itself. I can’t remember the last time I’ve overheard kids playing spotlight (does it even still exist?), but it’s lovely to sit in the chair and indulge in the garden. Everything seems to have a scent. The relentless needs of the garden can wait another few minutes.

I know when Martha and I hit the road again, this time just the two of us, we won’t be chasing time, and not trying to pack in memories. We have agendas and schedules waiting on the other side, but it feels like we are exhaling a bit and enjoying our own company as much as the weather. A few books, a puzzle, the odd glass of wine: we’ll be fine.

I picked a tune that sets the mood for me around this time of year. It’s Bebel Gilberto’s August Day Song, released (hard to believe) a quarter-century ago.

Meanwhile, I’ve been building a playlist in Spotify of songs mentioned here on the blog. Recent additions include Dolly Parton, Eddie Vedder, Lizzo and Mumford and Sons. Feel free to check it out.