Allow me one more thought about summer.  It is a very peculiar time around here.  You know how we complain about the weather this summer as if there is much difference between now and any other summer previous.  It never rains enough until there comes a tropical storm then we wish it would stop.  Most people work feverishly in flower beds until mid June or early July.  This is why my beds have very little planted in them.  People go from inside to outside only to get sinuses going wild.  Teachers may be the only ones who truly know how to appreciate this time of the year.  They understand the days are at a limit before returning to the grind.  The rest of us just go back and forth in our emotions.


It's the time of year you see trucks weighed down with watermelons or other garden stuff.  Most of them are beyond their prime years of life so it seems as if the tail leans dangerously close to the pavement.  There is the occasional old cowboy who refuses to yield to the weather.  He still wears long sleeves under his overalls.  Winter cowboy hats do get replaced with the straw fashion.  Guys like this drink coffee at all hours of the day for one reason.  They live with the idea that the more coffee you get on the inside will make your outside feel cooler.  Such is the logic of those who spend hours on tractors or in fields of golden hay.  Farmer tans are common in my part of the world.  Necks are red or brown while arms are tanned up to a point where the shirt ends.  You won't see this fashion everywhere as it is particular to the South.


We tend to rock along during these hot days unaware of time passing by.  One day it hits us that school is about to start so we better do what we can to enjoy.  I miss many things about summers when growing up.  What I would not give to be able to fish off my grandparents pier one more time?  I still miss baseball.  My mind is convinced my arm still has one good game left in it.  I don't tell it otherwise.  My job is still to cut the grass at the house.  That hasn't changed since I lived at home.  I tell my father that he is to blame for my seeking perfection is mowing the yard.  We both laugh at that.  There will be a day soon when the gardens stop giving us vegetables.  A day like that is worth grieving.  But all of this is the story of summer.  We complain now but will long for it the first cold, rainy day of the fall.  It's human nature.


Let's celebrate the next few weeks.  Our students will be back on the practice fields or in the band hall in a month.  We will begin to stress out about holiday travel along with all of the other things that go with it.  Our straw hats will go back to be replaced by winter wool.  Gardens will be plowed over for next year.  Patriotic decorations go back into boxes until the end of next May.  Make every day matter.  Enjoy some tomatoes.  Watch a ballgame.  It's why God gave us summer.


Bro. Trey