Summer-Lover

Growing up I didn't much care for the summer. I hated being hot, sweaty, and sticky. I was convinced my sweat glands were clinically overactive. I felt self-conscious in warm weather clothes that didn't fit quite right. I saw less of my friends from school. I didn't like the beach. Summer was merely the precursor to the best season of them all: fall.

Now I am realizing I am a summer-lover. Long days full of sunshine. Sarah home visiting. Cheap produce and sticky sweet cherries and blueberries and peaches in season. My husband and my baby's birthdays. Knocking off work early on a Friday. Trips to the beach, which I now enjoy. 

This September was tinged with sadness as the leaves on Bedford Street started to turn yellow and fall. The gory Halloween decorations and scary movie trailers took over public spaces. I lost Peter to endless football (and somehow also baseball??) on the television--something I used to enjoy watching with him, but now it reminded that summer was gone. 

I was thrilled to escape to Rio de Janeiro during October. For a week I had summer back. The shorts and crop tops and sandals that hadn't seen use since August were back in the rotation. I got a tan. The days were still relatively short compared to summer in New England, but we stayed up late eating dinner on a Brazilian schedule. I went to the beach every day. 

Now I am back in Connecticut and the fall foliage is at its peak. It is chilly enough for me to dig out my ankle booties and slouchy tops. There is a smoky crispness in the air. Our first day back, I made Debie Peck's pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, which my mom used to make and freeze every fall. Coming out of the oven, the scent of nutmeg and ginger confirmed that fall is here and I am okay with that.