I think June is the greatest month of the year. The days will never be longer or lighter, until next June, of course. There is life and color all around us, and it hasn't started wilting and dying from extreme heat yet. There are still many outings to have and fun things in store, and I haven't heard "I'm bored" once (no doubt it'll come soon). Life hasn't reached the fevered pitch of July, or the withering drone of August. I like June.
In Natalie Babbitt's novel, Tuck Everlasting, she describes how August feels.
"The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel; when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightening, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after."
It's a shame all the freshness of June has to end up crushed in August's sticky grasp. I don't think there's anyway to prevent it from happening. It's part of nature's cycle. But this is what I'm going to do to make the most of the last few weeks of June:
1. Breathe in the air in the evenings. It's the fresh and warm and perfect.
2. Go to the local pool as much as possible.
3. Make a better effort to keep my flowers alive.
4. Remember to eat produce out of the garden.
5. Play more with the children.
6. Get through the stack of books I've been meaning to read.
June, July and August will come and go, and like the Ferris wheel, we'll rotate through the seasons and cycles of life, back to when it's a nearly perfect June again.