The grand finale of Summer rolls in accompanied by the cloying heat of long dog day afternoons and the mystical month of August with her steamy, tempestuous nights. These are the times I love to go back up on the river bank, lie myself down in the cooling shade and watch the clouds sail across the sky from beneath the forest’s canopy. The times I enjoy standing barefoot in cool waters, raising my arms to the skies and letting all energy that flows from the earth’s final pregnant months of the growing season seep in and pulse through my veins. Powerful late afternoon thunder storms will soon be rumbling across the landscape as Demeter curses and rages, knowing soon enough Persephone will return to the dark lands. As for me I shall drink them in, the raw natural power filling me with its intoxicating adrenaline as I stand headlong against the wind driven rains and dare the lightning to call me home.I shall, at this point in time wonder if I loved Summer enough. If I danced on her moonlit nights in forests deep, swam freely in her sun warmed waters, laughed with the birdsong rising from the treetops or picked that giant bouquet of Roses thorns be damned. Every Winter I dream of these moments when the days are short and slumbers pall hangs over the growing things. I must check myself now before she’s gone, slow my roll and walk shoeless in her grasses, make a point to greet the midnight hour as her final moon waxes full, cast off my garments and dance in her quicksilver waterfall of light. I must certainly make the time to meander further southward to the point where the land meets the sea, waltz upon the beach, let the waves lap gently at my feet and watch that giant warming orb that gave us all the valiant gift of Summer breach the horizon on a newborn day. If not now when? I care not to be sitting by the fire months from today, dreaming of her heady fragrances, warm soft breezes and roaring storms, allowing the realization to cross my mind that I missed these magic times, that I did not take advantage of all my sweet Summer seasons delight.So on this misty day in newborn August I find it in myself to curse the mechanics of man that separated us from all that was good, pure wild and free. Mechanics that took the magic moments of daylight and darkness, pillaged and broke them to pieces to become the minutes, seconds and hours that we now use to coordinate our lives. Don’t be deceived, time is heartbeat to heartbeat, one breath to the next, love to heartbreak, life to death. Time is what we all make it surrounded by the magic of the seasons. I would dearly love to smash the clocks, tear apart the calendars and use the judgment of the awakening seed, the unfurling leaf, and the moment when the forests adorn themselves in colorful splendor wishing summer farewell to judge the passing of my days. If demons exist, those who set it upon themselves to steal our time must certainly be highly regarded in their wicked realm. I so often dream of eschewing it all, yet I must live in my world.
Summer if I’ve not loved you enough I intend to do so. I shall give you all my heart in your waning days. Like an errant lover I shall kiss the sweet lips of your gentle breezes, embrace the warmth of your retreating sun and make love to your hot sultry nights. I shall cast off the shackles of the mechanics of man, dance among the spirits of the wild and let the heavens decide my fate. When the time comes for our final farewell my spirit shall not have roamed in vain. For the passions in me you have instilled shall give me succor through Winter’s darkest nights as he runs his icy fingers through my hair and tries to win my soul. A cold, chilling lover I shall shun until I dance with you once again in the newly sprung fields and verdant forests of my destiny. Yet on this day I shall forget the goodbyes soon to come and love you with all my being. In these moments Summer, we are one.