These high summer days present us with one of time's contradictions. On the one hand, August tells time in its unique, slow fashion. The fruit ripens slowly, the lawn needs water every few days, and to be mowed on occasion. It all seems to unfold slowly, as if the whole world is avoiding breaking into a sweat. Even the sky is lazy.
On the other hand, I am conscious of the quickened shortening of daylight, and the rapid turn of pages on the calendar. Summer, so long-awaited, is already waning. Even the 90 degree heat can't keep me from shuddering as I contemplate last winter's snows, and the possibility of their return.
I should endeavor to enjoy as much summer as I can crowd into my moments. I'll start on that as soon as I finish this glass of tea, and maybe take a nap.