I was sitting on the deck yesterday when it hit me.
It's that awful, gnawing I get in my gut every year at this time. Summer is on the wane.
It didn't help yesterday that the feeling struck me right after my wife and I had completed a trip to Wal-Mart to snag a bargain for our son, the high school teacher. That would be copy books for 79 cents a piece. We bought five boxes of them.
And here I thought that with two kids now having completed their educations - including one law school grad - our days of buying back-to-school goodies were over.
Usually, I am struck with this bit of melancholy as I drive home from my summer oasis, Rehoboth Beach, Del. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like we're going to make it to Rehoboth this year. Which hasn't helped my mood at all. It just doesn't seem like summer without Grotto, Ryan's Gems and Junk, and dinner at Obie's on the boardwalk.
But none of that is what caused my end of summer angst yesterday afternoon.
This did: I was chilly.
Our deck in late afternoon is for the most part in the shade. I was sitting out there doing a little reading and getting ready to fire up the grill for dinner when I realized I was actually chilly sitting in the shade. I slid my chair over into the sun, but the damage was done.
You're not supposed to be chilly in the first week of August.
After dinner, I got hit with another familiar sign of change. My wife and I like to enjoy our coffee on the front porch of our house. She even bought me a pillow this year so I can prop my feet up on the front railing.
Last night, on a sparkling - albeit somewhat cool - night, we were both struck by an ominous sign. It's getting darker earlier.
We slept last night with the covers on.
It's just not fair. Not for the first week of August. This is supposed to be prime time for summer.
But in this wet summer, it looks like the heat might be skippping town early.
Endless summer? Not in these parts.
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