The summer is beginning to slip away. Walnut trees are dropping yellow rain on the driveway, despite my vocal injunctions to stop acting as if it was October. But at 8:30 tomorrow morning I have a class to teach. There will be a room full of sophomores, half asleep, showing up because they're supposed to, that I have to drag into semi consciousness and invite on a journey of discovery. Whew.
The lush growth and dripping heat is only part of what I miss about the season of tomatoes and corn. I miss not even considering what to wear, unless I'm trying to be appropriate or impress my lady. I'll be emptying my drawer of T shirts soon. I miss the switch from remembering what night of the week I have to work, to do I have an evening off. I miss reading for the hell of it. I miss digging in my garden, and communing with my bonsai. I miss long slow dinners in the gazebo by candle light. I miss sand in my shoes.
Don't you?
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