Beginning Of The End Of Summer
I remember sitting at the waterfront with fellow staffers many moons ago, as a late teen, at Camp IAWAH. One of them was a lifeguard/waterfront head named Graham Thompson (who went by the camp name of Huck) and he was a few years my eld. It was about this time of year in 1994 or so, and the wind was really picking up and cutting through the elms and maples along the shoreline and we were wearing long sleeve shirts for the first time all season. He commented on the wind, as Wolfe Lake sported a few caps out in the middle. He said something to the effect of "ya feel that? That wind in the trees? That's the beginning - the beginning of the end of summer." I got a good song out of that.
In my 39th summer as a human, there's something more metaphysical about this time of year. It seems to be symbolic of the rapid changes we go through, and the hyper-vivid images of our lives that project in the skies all too quickly over the treetops of our memories. While the dead heat of summer causes us to slow down, the late August wind picking up reminds us that nothing stays the same. We grow up. We get older. We work more. We let grudges go a little quicker. We feel pain in parts of our bodies that we didn't know existed.
These days, I work a lot, I move fast and I rarely stay still. I work a lot for a craft beer company, and when I'm not doing that (which is almost never), I'm in a zone of stasis or movement. I'm not able to put the time in cultivating and fostering friendships that I would like - but that's for a good reason. I'm growing something. I'm building something. I'm lucky to have found a gorgeous partner who understands my shortcomings and who accepts me as I am - but who sees the best in me on a sun-earth-moon gravitational basis. We are not the same person, and it's not always easy and it takes a few scary conversations to find the destination, but we always get there.
This summer has been a sea of humid smoke, product based conversations and shucked empty 50 litre kegs. I have been by the water of Otter and Stormy on a few occasions, but I have been on the ground. Dukin' it. Carrying the loads. Doin' it. And doin' it (fairly) well.
The fall is coming friends. The seasons don't stop. Friends might fade. Relationships may alter. But don't deny love. Let it poke its leafy head through your sidewalk heart. Stock up on what matters to you. Don't let the winds of rumours or regret avert your mighty ship. I must remember that as well.
Good things.
