Passing Calendar

Early summer brings cucumbers and backyard gatherings, while late summer sees lit chimeneas and more toasted marshmallows.  Food makes such a lovely way to mark the passing calendar: strawberries in June, sweet corn in July, peaches in August, ice cream all summer long.  We've already enjoyed a few early apples and are looking toward evenings that call for hot cocoa.

Without a classroom to prepare, I realize I no longer think of seasons in terms of new crayons and holiday programs and report cards and spring break.  And with age or wisdom or children, or as a result of an appreciation that comes from all of them, I find myself noticing seasonal shifts with a new lens.  One that appreciates seasonal produce and chalk drawings washed away by rain, that notices withered potato vines calling quietly to be replaced by mums.  One that shapes contentment through each switch, filters urgency with each stage.

A long holiday weekend, and with it weather that would agree, marks summer to fall.  But today I’m thinking neither too far forward, nor too far back, not about lesson plans or farmers markets.  Instead I go to bed having snacked on the best peach cobbler I had all day, with a goodnight kiss for a little girl who's never been more beautiful.  It doesn't matter what symbolizes the cache of sentiment now, or what's around the bend.  It's enough just to know there is sentiment.

 JEB