Saturday, June 25, 2016


No use denying it any longer: Summer is here at Stately Key Manor.

Our cows are lookin' good.
I've come to like longer days as I get older, as many of us do---one of the reasons so many flee to Equatorial areas in retirement---and only now does it strike me as odd that the moment we get to the warmest season of the year, the days start shortening up. Dramatically it's all wrong. The longest day of the summer should appear around August 25, not on the first day. That way summer builds to a climax and leaves time for the denouement. Who writes this stuff?

But I certainly can't argue with the set design. The sunsets in summer are famously gorgeous, but so are the sunrises.

This is when I know what Homer was talking about when he referred to "rosy-fingered Dawn" opening up the light of the day. He uses the term five times in the Iliad, twenty-one in the Odyssey (your translation may vary). Eos, goddess of the dawn, opens the gates of heaven and brings forth the sun. Dawn may be rosy at other times of the year, but never more so than summer.

It's easy to take for granted the little things, like not having to Nanook up when going outside, not having darkness before quittin' time, and all that. But I quickly focus on the burned-out lawn, the shvitzing in 95 degrees and 110% humidity, the guys strolling about with mandals on their ugly monkey feet. Well, I can't blame the last bit on the weather.

Summer's not actually my favorite season, not that it cares what I think. No one asked me.

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