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Memories keep summer alive

Summer is almost done. It’s sad.

Summer is almost done.

It’s sad.

I only got started on my summer bucket list stuff and then I happened to look out the window and noticed the whole picture in front of me had changed.

For one thing, someone had dyed the leaves on those old poplar trees that hang over my fence to the colour of old gold and burnished copper, and only a few green ones had escaped the relentless brush strokes.

The marina was curiously empty and devoid of any kind of water activity such as boats that purred softly, stirring up the water like blue pudding mix and people bearing fishing rods and hope with a single minded determination.

Geese, in the familiar V formation cut through the sky, startling the stillness with their piercing cry.

The window was open and I shivered, thereby feeling cold as well as sad.

You would think after living my entire life in Alberta except for a few misplaced years when I got lost in British Columbia, I would know a few things about life and the way it is.

Summer does not last long here. Never lose that ice scraper thing because one day before long you will need it, especially if, at the place where you live, the garage is used to store tools and your driveway is used to park cars.

I remember when we got a garage and I was all smug and proud and bragging about it.

I don’t talk about it much anymore on account of the fact my car sits in the driveway but my husband’s tools stay warm and cosy in the garage all winter long.

How did that happen?

Yes, winter is long and just thinking about it makes me all cold and sad already.

Still, when spring was smiling its happy little yellow face all over the world and the mud puddles were only covered by a thin veneer of ice, it seems summer, which has been a very long time coming, would last a long time, too.

That kind of optimism is just plain silly.

It won’t.

But summer, though short, was good.

Even though I did not get to prove my athletic prowess as a water skier, nor did I make it to the golf course, but once, there were a few moments when happiness just sort of appeared and, unexpectedly, plopped down right where I was.

There was that game of softball with my grandchildren.

Who would have thought using a plastic ball and bat and an old tree for first base could garner such delight.

And, there was the party!

Many people ate, drank and were merry at the party, and for a brief moment in time, I forgot to be the hostess, and ate, drank and was merry, too.

That’s the best kind of party!

And, there was the flowers.

Why, when stress rears its ugly head and people find all kinds of things wrong with the world, not even including winter, do flowers have a way of making everything better.

I guess because they are so perfect and they grow even through cement (oh no, that’s weeds).

Seriously, my flowers were extraordinarily wonderful, reminding me, once again, even though not all is right with the world, flowers and eyes that smile and little people who call you grandma, balance the scales enough to keep thoughts of summer alive.

Even in winter.