The official unofficial end of summer

Paula
Paula Tessier
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So, how was your summer? Did you do anything special? Go anywhere?

It was a good one. I must say. In fact, for a while there I thought we’d all roast with the heat.

And then Regatta Day hit.

Ah yes, I recall my very first summer living in the big city, more than 25 years ago.

Regatta Day was coming up. I was all excited about going to the lake for the first time to check out the festivities.

Boat races, vendors, all the home fries you could choke down, games of chance … the works.

At that point in my life, I’d never seen or heard of anything like it. What a marvelous day this was going to be!

And then, with a factual tone, one of my townie friends made a statement that changed everything: “Regatta Day, the official end of summer!”

What? Way to suck the fun right out of it!

Well, it turns out, to my great sadness, there was a little something to it.

It could be because once August hits, the summer days seem to just zip by without us even knowing, and before we can blink, the month is gone and September is here. It could also be because the weather truly does seem to change.

Well, quite literally one week ago, we woke and didn’t even need to look out the window or check the forecast to know that it was going to be a sunny scorcher.

We enjoyed so many phenomenal days this summer, July especially.

In fact, the heat had clearly messed with some people’s memories, because after the six months of wretched, frigid, torturous winter we’d just survived, some were actually heard uttering the unbelievable phrase, “It’s too hot!”

Stop that right now! Remember February? May? June, for heaven’s sake?

Literally six days ago, a mere one day after I broke a record for how thick sunscreen can be applied without rendering one’s joints immobile, I was at the Regatta, enjoying all the happenings once again.

To my complete sadness, however, I had to telephone a friend to bring me extra clothes because I was so incredibly, shockingly cold.

But we’re a hearty crowd, we Newfoundlanders and Labradoreans.

So, with numb fingers and wet wrinkly toes, we stuck it out to the very end of the races.

For the first time in a few months, a hot bath was required in order to bring my body temperature back to a normal leve

A drop of wine didn’t hurt, either.

What did hurt, was that it’s August, and the beginning of August at that.

This weekend past, I was in beautiful Green’s Harbour.

While Saturday was fantastic, with intermittent thunder and lightning that lasted all day, and beautiful sunny breaks in between the works, there still seemed to be a slight shift.

On Sunday, the shift wasn’t quite as slight. It was chilly enough for jeans and I almost found myself reaching for — oh, I can hardly admit it — but I almost reached for the thermostat.

So, here we are, a quarter of a century after first hearing that come the beginning of August summer is all but over, Mother Nature is proving why this idea is accepted on our end of the planet.

But I am nothing if not an optimist.

There are many beautiful post-Regatta days left yet.

Every second of those days are going to be appreciated.

The sunscreen will be kept close, the thermostat will remain untouched (sweatshirts will be kept handy).

And on one of those stellar days that we are sure to enjoy again, there are three words I’d better not hear from one single soul: “It’s too hot!”

Unless, of course, it’s simply an observation, not a complaint.

Email Paula Tessier at chickp@bellaliant.net.

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