The children lay out, laughing, on the jungle mattress, and heard it sigh and squeak under them, resilient and alive. They ran among the trees, they slipped and fell, they pushed each other, they played hide-and-seek and tag, but most of all they squinted at the sun until tears ran down their faces, they put their hands up to that yellowness and that amazing blueness and they breathed of the fresh, fresh air and listened and listened to the silence which suspended them in a blessed sea of no sound and no motion. They looked at everything and savored everything. Then, wildly, like animals escaped from their caves, they ran and ran in shouting circles. They ran for an hour and did not stop running.
Ray Bradbury, "All Summer in a Day," A Medicine for Melancholy.
The maples and euonymus are disclosing their first ruddy and golden leaves.
Last week, we packed new backpacks for our newly minted seventh grader, third grader and first grader.
In the language of flowers, summer's gone:
I am not as nostalgic about summer waning as I usually am. This one's been so hot--I'm just glad for cooler temperatures. You're farther north, so may have been more comfortable.
Posted by: Julana | September 09, 2005 at 10:03 AM