When I was about 12 or 13, there were some days when I couldn't figure out if I was still a kid or had moved on to being grown-up. Should I play with my Barbie dolls or try on jewelry?
This, the last day of August had that same kind of indecision in the air - is it still Summer or is Fall coming on? The sun beat down from a cloudless sky and caused beads of sweat to accumulate on my arms. The dampness of the soil combined with the scent of the plantlife in the park and the warmth of the sun on the grass gave the air a hot, musky smell that said, "Yes, Summer's here and always will be."
And yet, when the breeze kicked up it had the definite feel of crispness that goes along with bonfires, football and pumpkin pie. Crickets only get big enough to make a sound when they rub their legs together towards the end of Summer. Today you could hear them over the coursing of the waters at St. Anthony Falls (granted, there's been so little rain this year that the falls look more like a giant water slide). This is the eighth day of the State Fair; we're 2/3 of the way through now. No doubt about it, Autumn is just around the corner.
I could appreciate Fall more - the brilliant colors of the sugar maples, sunny days with a snap in the air, a new sweater from Land's End - if it weren't followed by that "W" word. That mind-numbing, soul-killing, butt-freezing season of interminable length that can't even keep itself clean. I wish I liked Winter; there's so much of it that I'm writing off a good part of the year. But Winter and my circulation (or lack thereof) just don't get along, so I'll continue to take advantage of days like these and keep them in the hard drive of my brain to replay when there is no sun, no warmth, no chirping crickets and remember when Summer wasn't ready to give up just yet.