The Suitcase Lady


September 3, 2019, 9:31 pm

The only better summer thing than sitting on the front porch is sitting on the back porch. At our house, the front porch is called “the lakeside” and the back porch is called “the roadside”.

We love to eat all our summer meals outside on those porches barring severe thunderstorms or tornado warnings. Breakfast is always on the lakeside even though we are never eating early enough to catch the sunrise. Dinner is on the roadside for two reasons: it is 10 degrees warmer than the lakeside porch in the evening and the sunset show is not to be missed. Life does not get better than summer dining al fresco.

But the summer days are waning, the clues are all around us. The tall silver grass along our driveway is sporting its white plumes, the last of the daylilies are blooming, the goldenrod is in its glory, the meadow grasses are slowly fading from green to amber and our purple martins have long gone.

The most reliable indicator of summer’s coming demise, however, is my husband. He is most emphatically not a “pumpkin spice-fall is the best season” kind of guy. Noting each new indicator of fall, he acts as if doomsday is upon us. My efforts to remain upbeat, noting the beauties of fall, do nothing to lift his spirits.

I must admit that my feelings are much like his. The poet James Russell Lowell asks, “What is so rare as a day in June?” To both of us, the answer is obvious…July and August.

Adieu to summer and all your glories. We will be counting the days until your return.

1 Comment for this entry

  • Joan Bodden

    Wonderful blog,although my favorite season is fall. I don’t think about what comes next. I just enjoy the beauty of fall.