I love You, Now Beat It

Dear Summer,

What a fun time we had together these last few months.  For the most part, you kept the sky blue and scattered with billowing cumulus clouds. (Just how I like it, by the way) And if those clouds seemed to meet and were filled with rain, you warned us and we knew exactly when to take cover, or, go out and dance in it.  You brought little frogs that enjoyed finding respite in between the front door and the screen door. We enjoyed hikes together, farmers markets, shorts to work, fire flies, wild flowers, visiting Elenore Roosevelt's house, delicious fruit and crisp Tocai wine. It was amazing.

I really enjoy your friendship, but there comes a time when one has over-stayed their welcome. I'm sorry to say, you have.  I liked waking up to your bright sunny days that started out in the low 70's at 6 am and ended in the low nineties at midnight. Yeah that was nice. But what isn't nice is your humidity. My hair and I have had a long, albeit, shorter relationship than most, but it has taken us this long to finally figure things out and just get along. But you had to interfere. You had to ruin that beautiful working relationship with your 85% humidity and my hair rebelled. Try as I may, I could not reconcile that relationship, and I have little hope for the future.

Except for one thing. Yes, I have to say it, Fall.  I don't know what fall in the northeast will bring to the table, but I hear it's beautiful, crisp and oh so fab.  Not to mention, the loss of self-esteem brought on by my large, bushy hair will be replenished with warm fall sweaters and boat shoes. The leaves will be beautiful shades of glory and while they may all fall, they will return in the beautiful, temperate spring, with the ducks and bunnies, dear and woodchucks that we will have all loved but missed. And dare I even bring it up...pumpkin spice chai. You are no match summer.

And although I do not look forward to meeting with your nemesis, Winter, I do look forward to seeing NYC in all it's magical Christmas glory. And frankly summer, winter seems to be your only hope for being welcomed back here again.

I'm sorry it had to end like this, but I hope we can find some bit of redemption and reconciliation in the coming months.

Your good friend,

Katelyn