“August is like the Sunday of summer.”
Welcome back, my friends! Or maybe I should welcome myself back? I took a short break for a few weeks to enjoy the summer. Hello to those of you who are new here. I’m so glad to have you with us as I share glimpses of the beauty around us in nature, the arts, and the unexpected.
****
August… Ahh. It’s my birthday month! Which for me means celebrations, cake, friends and family, chocolate, and new books. Or gift cards for new books.
Growing up, I loved August because of 1) my birthday and 2) back-to-school shopping. I was usually happy about school, but even when I wasn’t, the consolation prize was a big, brown, paper bag of shiny new supplies inside. What could be better than the smell of new pencils and white filler paper with blue lines? And of course, there was also the cool factor of the latest Mead organizer…
Years later, I had my own little girl who would go to school in August. Our annual shopping spree for us (for her, I mean) would leave me a little sad. She was growing up, our summer together was ending, and I would miss her.
A few months ago, in May, she graduated from college. Any tears I shed that day were proud, happy ones. But I still bought pencils and paper recently in honor of and in solidarity with all those kids going back to school. I’d want to do my part, you know.
A few years ago, I came across this quote: “August is like the Sunday of summer.” I love good quotes almost as much as new notebooks, so I spent some time thinking about it, turning it over in my mind.
Sunday might be my favorite day of the week. It’s the last day of the week and the exclamation point on the weekend. And it’s filled with good things.
For us, Sunday means church in the morning. We often have lunch with friends, then come home and read, maybe nap and just enjoy Sabbath time. Sometimes, we eat ice cream. We take a walk, maybe watch a movie, and talk about the week ahead—what’s coming up, what we’re looking forward to, what plans we need to make.
Regardless of the details, Sundays are good days.
If August is like the Sunday of summer, then September would be like the Monday of fall, wouldn't it? September ushers in a new season and the promise of cooler weather.
My dad (who passed away one August) loved fall, football, and the changing leaves. The trees on his and Mom’s property make quite a show of color, and I get to enjoy it with her every year. As she points out the best ones in the yard and in town, I take photos to capture the beauty we see and experience together.
Just last week, I saw that one of her dogwoods is already changing colors. A harbinger of fall.
As I’ve spent time contemplating that quote, I have found that August, with its ending of summer break, with its celebration and its loss, does remind me of Sunday. Although I always spend time looking back this month, I also look ahead to the coming of the new season—one which is filled with beauty and good things.
What is your favorite month or season and why? Leave a comment and let me know.
Photo of pencils and notebook by David Pennington on Unsplash
Photo of school bus by Element5 Digital on Unsplash