Nothing Like August

What is it about August that just makes it the guts of Summer? Maybe it's the feeling you got as a kid, knowing that school was just a few days away and you had to live it up while you could, asking your mom to stay outside just ten minutes more when she called you in at night. Maybe it's the balmy buzz of cicada filled trees, garden plants beginning to yellow after their fruit has been picked, and the way the sunlight seems to have a golden tint all day long.

Whatever it is, it's here right now, and I love it.

I'm sitting outside this evening, catching up on blogs. The little girl across the street is playing in her inflatable pool, spraying water from a garden hose and yelling things like "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!", "USA!" and "JESSE JAMES!". I'm not sure about the last one, but I remember that feeling. Walking outside is like being wrapped in a blanket, there are grass floaties in the water of your plastic pool, and you're just so unexplainably happy you feel like shouting it to the world. You want to hold on to every second of it you can because it won't be back for another nine months, which may as well be an eternity in kids years.

I was reminded of that feeling this weekend while working in the yard. As I sprayed months of grime off the side of the house, I smelled one of summer's unmistakable scents: hose water on hot concrete. That combination, to me, is the essence of August. Though it's exactly the same tap water I drink all year long, it somehow changes to something special in that scenario. The smell is metallic and earthy and humid. It's a respite for burning feet on hot pavement, it's a romp through the sprinkler or helping Dad wash the car in the driveway.

The days are already getting a bit shorter, and I really need to get the yard mowed tonight, but I think I'll just sit here and enjoy it... for ten more minutes.

(Photo courtesy tsuacctnt)