Farewell to Summer

Yesterday was the last day of summer.

Every year autumn decides to come at a different time in my country and it is never follows strictly the autumnal equinox. September and October here are usually months with uncertain weather and many rainy days. And in spite of the fact that the beginning of winter lies two months ahead, people take the jackets out of the wardrobe at the middle of September and put them back in May.

This year was a sweet exception – September was warm and sunny and so was the first week of October. Temperatures varied around 25-28 degrees Celsius and people were thankful for every single day of the prolonged summer.

In my opinion, autumn exists only as a more acceptable transition from the carefree summer days to the dark cold winter, kind of an adaptation to what is going to come.

I know, winter is inevitable.

But I still hate the bare trees and the empty nests of the storks, so vulnerable and pointless.

More than five months I am going to miss the sounds of summer – the songs of the blackbirds, who wake me up in the morning, the violin playing girl at the entrance of the subway, and especially the evening noises from the neighbors:  people talking around the tables while having dinner, laughter of a noisy company, excited men in front of their TVs  giving loud advices to the players during a football play.  

I will miss the sounds of crickets which always turn me back to my childhood and give me the feeling of grass and barefoot runabouts.

I will miss the smells of summer, especially the ones from the kitchen doors – the grilled peppers you can smell two streets away from the place they are being prepared, the fried fish at the seaside restaurants, the fresh cut watermelon.

And all the sights of summer – the beautiful girls in the streets, wearing their most beautiful clothes and walking in the main street attracting everybody’s attention. The scone of ice creams in the hand of a child. The boat in the sea. The flowers in the gardens. The fruits and vegetables at the farmers market. The grass. All the hues of sunlight.

As a child I was terrified of the thought that there are people who die at the end of winter without having the opportunity to have even one more summer day. What is the reason of five months waiting if you don’t see the sun again? Spending all the cold winter months without being rewarded with a last chance to feel the summer?

Years passed and I didn’t get rid of that fear. And I always ask myself the same question – will I experience one more summer, will I dive again in the warm waters of the sea, will I collect again seashells at the shore?

The first October rain is falling now. I know this rain. This is not the summer rain which drives the children sail paper ships in the puddles and which fills the air with freshness. It’s cold and depressing.

So, yesterday I make farewell to the passing summer, saying: 

Thank you, summer. I am grateful for all you gave me: for all the warming sun, for my salty hair after swimming, for the new wrinkles around my eyes caused by a lot and lot of smiles and jokes with my children. Thank you for the vacation which makes me feel like I have no worries, for the long hours on the beach, for the soft feeling of silk and linen of my clothes. 

Thank you for all the joy. Hope to see you again.