The calendar summer is not yet over: officially summer began on June 21 and will end on September 21. But in the mind of a Wisconsinite, true summer always commences on Memorial Day and concludes on Labor Day. This means that summer has officially bid us adieu.
With that said, why does it feel like summer never even said hello?
Easy answer: The weather.
The days of summer 2009 often felt like they were being blown in from Saskatchewan; there was a Canadian chill in the air that would have been more appropriate for late October. I half-expected to hear migrant geese flying overhead. And that was on the days that were, technically, sunny. Much of the time, the cloud cover was so constant that summer might as well have been taking place beneath the roof of Miller Park. Meanwhile, most of us kept waiting patiently for the real summer to show itself.
Why does this matter?
Because we’re all given a finite number of summers in our lives. There are no do-overs. Once August is gone each year, it’s freakin’ gone. Period.
Naturally, Midwestern folks are always encouraged to look forward to autumn with its annual pleasures, the seasonal treats I generally welcome with open arms. But as this summer-that-didn’t-really-happen nears its end, I’m feeling a strong resistance to all things autumn. Yup, even the tang of apple cider.
Now, if you find yourself arguing that this has been a great summer because you actually liked the unseasonable weather that robbed me of my tan, then please, know that there are a lot of us out there who genuinely hate envy you. If you managed to enjoy the sun-dappled, autumn-like days of June, July and August, I salute you and I’m incredibly jealous of your enthusiasm for shitty weather. After all, I wholeheartedly believe that we were cheated.
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