Every year I almost run away with Summer. I mean, first of all, he's hot. He's tan and athletic. He owns a boat and jet skis. Summer is happy and fun-loving. He's an early riser and a night owl. He brings me flowers, starts up a farmer's market, and suggests we take a vacation. Summer reminds me that a skirt would be cooler than jeans, and he gives me an excuse to buy a new swimsuit. Summer is all about going big with fireworks and nightly lightning storms. I quickly realize that I am no match for his charms and fall, head first, into Summer's arms.
One day I spend too much time with Summer and realize that I've been burned. I resist seeing this as a sign because, it's Summer. You have to take a little bad with the good right? I remind myself that in order to hang out with Summer I'm just going to have to slather myself with sunblock. No biggie. I go back to snacking on sno-cones, running through sprinklers, and grilling dinner. Yep. I'm going to stay with Summer forever.
But without fail, Summer and I begin to grow apart. He insists on keeping the house too hot and I can't keep up with the weeds that keep cropping up in the flowers he brought. He gets annoyed that I haven't gone running in the mornings with him and he reminds me (quite rudely, I might add) that he won't be around forever and why don't I appreciate him more? One evening, while I'm grumbling about the wasp nests that Summer brought to my wind chime, I feel a crisp breeze rush by and I remember. I remember the season that I love the most--Fall. How could I have forgotten Fall? How was I fooled, once again, by Summer's hot and steamy-ness? Summer can tell I'm getting restless for Fall and throws a bit of a fit. He tries to bring back high temperatures to remind me of what I'm missing out on, but it never works. We're over and he knows it.
I forget all about Summer and pledge my devotion to Fall. Fall is handsome, educated, and he's a snappy dresser. He keeps bringing me flowers but he also brings apples, and pumpkins. He helps me throw a giant Halloween party. Fall always smells good and speaks with a smooth quiet voice. He suggests that I keep wearing that cute skirt, but why not add some colorful stockings and a cardigan to the outfit? Even better! Fall doesn't think it is silly if I still buy school supplies, and he brings home a giant stack of books for me from the library. He stocks the craft store with beautiful yarns for me to knit with. He thinks we should keep grilling, but maybe we should bake a pie inside at the same time? Fall loves pie as much as I do. He throws me a birthday party.
Fall, being as thoughtful as he is, gently reminds me that he can't stay forever, and that I can't keep any of the seasons around all the time. Then he quietly slips away while I'm being enchanted by the first snowfall. I know that Fall can't stay forever, but that doesn't mean that I can't always love him. Even when I'm enjoying the holidays or snapping pictures of green grass cropping up, I'm thinking of Fall. And even though I forget Fall for a while when Summer rolls around, he doesn't get offended. He knows I'll be there waiting for him. He's coming soon—I can feel it—and I absolutely can't wait.