Labor Day always leaves me feeling a little sad. It's the official end of summer thing. Suddenly I realize that the carefree vibe we have had going for the past 3 months is no more. It 's the weekend that I pull out my slowly dying and dwindling veggie garden. The end of sweet, red, ripe grape tomatoes grown from my own hard work and popped hot from the sun into the mouths of even hotter little kids. The end of lazy afternoons spent watching movies with the kids and sipping pink lemonade because it is too hot to move. Labor day means the end of camping trips, campfires, roasted marshmallows, and days by the lake. The end of being awakened by sunshine and birdsong every morning.
When I was a child I never thought of Labor Day as the end. It was always the beginning. It was the day before school started and with school came possibilities. New schedules and classes. Days spent with new friends and old friends. New school clothes and shoes. New backpacks and notebooks. I've always loved blank new notebooks.
Now my children start school in the middle of August and Labor Day leaves me feeling a little melancholy. Because as much as I look forward to the start of school and embrace the order that school schedules bring to our lives, I will miss that special something, that special magic that touches our lives every summer.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Ok Shannon you are a writer at heart. I read your posts and feel like I'm reading a great book!
Post a Comment