This is it … the last hurrah of summer.
This Labor Day weekend marks the end of the freedoms of summer.
The freedom of school break, summer vacations, daylight that stretches into the late evening, bare feet, BBQs with friends and family, beaches, lakes and swimming pools.
There is a vast mourning of the end of this most refreshing season on the calendar and in the atmosphere around us. A sadness in the end of this most life-giving time of year.
So, this weekend, we try to squeeze out every last drop of joy. We pile into our vehicles and hit the roads for a last hurrah of camping, or hoteling, or visiting friends and family, or simply sitting on the porch with a good book and an ice cold drink. We stay up late, sleep long. If the rains fall we will cozy up with Netflix or venture to the theatre, meet friends for a coffee or lunch.
There is almost a reverence to this weekend. There is a sense that this weekend, more than any other, we need to be present, be good stewards of our time, stop and smell the roses.
Though the PSL (pumpkin spice latte) crowd has moved on into autumn tastes and thoughts, it is still summer. It is still the season for wearing shorts and tank tops, watering our gardens and patio lunches
This weekend is a reminder that maybe, we rush too often to the next thing.
This is summer’s last hurrah, walk, don’t run … for it is worth savouring.
itsawonderfilledlife 