So here it is June 22nd, the first official full day of summer, according someone.
Well, I think I'm going to have to dispute this. It's in the 50's, it's windy, rainy, just plain downright un-summer like. I had the heat on in my car today, I've been wearing sweatshirts (and still I'm cold), so I am afraid I have to veto the idea that this is summer.
I know, I live in New England and therefore I get what I get and I better be happy about it. You live in New England and you take your chances, that's the bottom line. But come on, seriously end of June and we aren't even breaking 60 degrees. It's just hitting the ludicrous mark at this point. Spring to summer, it's supposed to be a time of transition, kids getting out of school, summer flowers bursting to life, cool breezes giving way to blistering heat. Yet here we are stuck in what seems to be perpetual spring, early spring at that.
They say summer is coming, it will show itself eventually. I'll believe it when I see it, I'm not convinced. The rain, the gloom, they seem to have a very firm hold on our little area. It's hard to picture them relinquishing their chilling grasp any time in the near future.
So I'm off to write, off to where the weather follows my whims and the sun can shine freely upon the green fields as warm breezes gently caress roses in bloom. Yep that’s summer, or what it should be if I weren't in New England.
Oh well I still love it here.