Every year when the calendar turn from August into September comes around, I find myself musing on the lyrics to a certain song about summer. It’s a lush, sappy song, dripping with poetry, femininity, and metaphor. It’s rather schmaltzy, but I do like it.
Whereas earlier in the summer, you’ll find me soaking in the celebratory sounds of 80’s music, reminiscing to songs that defined the summers of my youth, late summer always brings to the surface this quintessential end-of-summer song. Its sad, almost haunting melody makes me feel simultaneously reflective and apprehensive, looking back at the first half of the year and bracing for a more interior state of being that fall and winter seem to bring.
The Summer Knows
The summer smiles, the summer knows
And unashamed, she sheds her clothes
The summer smooths the restless sky
And lovingly she warms the sand on which you lie
The summer knows, the summer’s wise
She sees the doubts within your eyes
And so she takes her summer time
Tells the moon to wait and the sun to linger
Twists the world ’round her summer finger
Lets you see the wonder of it all.
And if you’ve learned your lesson well
There’s little more for her to tell
One last caress, it’s time to dress for fall
The summer knows, the summer’s wise
She sees the doubts within your eyes
And so she takes her summer time
Tells the moon to wait and the sun to linger
Twists the world ’round her summer finger
Lets you see the wonder of it all.
And if you’ve learned your lesson well
There’s little more for her to tell
One last caress, it’s time to dress for fall
I’ve had a lot of time to be reflective this summer. Work has been slow. Life has been slower. My husband and I spent much of the season settling into our new home with steadiness and intention. We’d go into town and feel out the vibe of a new restaurant. We unpacked the remaining boxes that crowded our music room and broke out our instruments more for play. We spent many weekends fixing up our garden, learning how to prune roses, making eyes with garden lizards, and taking in the views from our hillside. And we met up with friends, old and new, and engaged in hours-long conversations about life’s many twists and turns.
I had the sense that we had finally arrived in the place we had been searching for, and it felt so grounding. I couldn’t believe it when I would think back just a year before, recalling how my husband and I packed up our old home, shifted ourselves and our belongings across the San Francisco Bay, and just floated and floated, searching for the right next “perch” to alight upon. And here we are.
But it’s not been an easy summer, I’ll be honest. My 89-year-old mother took a fall in late June that set her health back quite suddenly. At one point, my work slowed to the slowest trickle I’d seen in all my 7+ years of consulting. I battled internally with questions about where my work and my life should be headed. And the constant barrage of news about climate-related catastrophes around the world, increased violence in our communities, and the breakdown of civil society filled me with a sense of existential doom.
Yet, by the grace of time, we have arrived at the closing act of summer — Labor Day weekend. Bless our unions for advocating so hard to give us this holiday break from our routine at just the moment when it seems the atmospheric energy is shifting into higher speed. As summer’s performance careens to its conclusion, so my own life feels this year like it’s bringing certain plot lines to a close. My mother is getting stronger by the day, an incredible testament to her stamina (and, perhaps lucky for me, her genes). The house feels more ours, more settled. And work has picked up tremendously as I stare down the road at a wonderful new job role that I’m over the moon to take on.
Speaking of the moon, she’s put on quite a show for us of late. I’ve spent more time this year than usual keeping track of the moon. Noticing it rising over the horizon, watching its phases ebb and flow, feeling its glow in the middle of the night when I move to lay down in the living room, restless and awake, wondering. Just like seeing the stars more, I’ve been glued to the moon’s behavior, learning about its influence, and marveling at its presence.
Even summer, with all her power and charm, couldn’t hold back the moon completely this week. It was a fitting way to close the season’s show. I don’t know about you, but this Labor (free) Day weekend, I’ll be celebrating the turning of seasons in anticipation of fall. The long days are shortening. Summer is entering her seasonal acquiescing. And there are good and necessary changes ahead.
