Dog Days

Well now, here we are. We’ve come  so far from the burdens of winter and arrived smack dab in the middle of summer. Its nice here. Even nicer than I’d expected. Seattleites are so cute these days, walking around in shorts and flippy floppies. They’re holding hands and telling long, loud stories on the bus. They’re flying kites with cameras on ’em at Gas Works Park. They’re pushing small dogs around in strollers. They’re riding the Ducks. Its marvelous.

But it hasn’t been all honey lavender ice cream every day, either. In the tumult there are a great many somber sort of vague smiles. Those smiles are so often my favorite but, sadly, come from a keen sense of loss, pain and fear. Summer teaches us that work can suck, our bones can break and our parents can die. But then we knew that already. So we smile, we hug, we sing. We wander around museums and parks. We have cheap beers and rich conversation. It helps.

Looking onward to the next season, there is hope that things will change and that things stay the very same.


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