People often believe summer ends at different times. Some believes it ends on the first day of fall. Many believe it ends labor day weekend. Typically in NYC it is easy to see that after labor day everyone breaks out their black and grey clothing instead of their brighter colors. Talking to a colleague today...she said summer ends when she can't wear flip flops anymore. If I went by that, summer would be half the year. I often like to categorize summer ending with the last beach outing. I thought my summer had come to an end when I had come back from Europe, started school, and noticed I was wearing my grey pants again (with flip flops). On the other hand, this past weekend I got in some unexpected beach time. It has become a bit tradition for Iz and I to head to Long Beach the week after school opens. I enjoy going this time of year because there is more of an appreciation for the beach since it most likely will be my last time in my two piece before I break out the cords and wool knits. We had a great time...hung out with other teachers outside the classroom, drank some interesting homemade bug juice, and watched some volleyball.
There will always be next summer, but it's sad to say goodbye to what was a great summer. And this morning was the clincher. I woke up, looked in the mirror at my bronzed face, and heard it was going to be a high of 67 degrees on the radio. I was okay with it though.....on a day of remembrance it seemed fitting that the weather was exactly the same as it was 5 years ago.
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