“It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from our window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.” ⎯Ray Bradbury, “Dandelion Wine”
Many of us have cherished childhood memories of the specialness of summer. We measured it, of course, by the last day of school. My sister and I made paper chains weeks before that last day and excitedly took off one link each night before we went to bed.
But summer, perhaps just another solstice to the science-minded, was magic. It was the best.
“Summer was on the way; Jem and I awaited it with impatience. Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the treehouse; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape. ⎯Harper Lee, “To Kill a Mockingbird”
Ray Bradbury’s story of 12-year-old Douglas Spaulding’s idyllic summer might not have garnered as much literary attention had it begun with a more technical definition of summer.
“From an astronomical view, the equinoxes and solstices would be the middle of the respective seasons, but sometimes astronomical summer is defined as starting at the solstice . . . often identified with the 21st day of June in the northern hemisphere. . . . The meteorological convention is to define summer as comprising the months of June, July, and August.” ⎯Sir Robert Ball, “Elements of Astronomy”
Makes you want to rush down to the old swimmin’ hole, doesn’t it? Whichever path you choose, summer 2021 presents a unique, pandemic-coated pastiche of optimism and trepidation.
Way back in February, James Hamblin of The Atlantic magazine waxed hopeful under the headline “A Quite Possibly Wonderful Summer”:
“Families will gather. Restaurants will reopen. People will travel. The pandemic may feel like it’s behind us — even if it’s not.”
That’s the clincher, isn’t it? “Even if it’s not.” The CDC advised against travel in late March but by April said it was fine. Meanwhile, Disney Cruise Line canceled more of its Florida-based sailings as well as its normal plans for European sailings this summer.
MSNBC reported in mid-April that more than a quarter of those eligible for vaccination in the United States had received both injections.
They’re safe, right? Right? We’re safe? Everybody’s safe. Or is it like Nazi dentist Laurence Olivier looming over Dustin Hoffman in “Marathon Man”? Is it safe?
My iPhone sounds its Sherwood Forest horn alert with the “Sun-Sentinel” headline “COVID-19 in Florida: 5,520 new cases and 7 more dead.” An “Orlando Sentinel” alert immediately answers back: “Weekly infections up, but residents’ deaths down.”
My wife and I have been following all the rules to avoid the virus. We’ve been very careful. We’re in our 70s and I have a respiratory condition that goes back to having pneumonia in the sixth grade.
By the end of March, we had received both vaccinations. We had to drive from Boynton Beach to Pembroke Pines to receive them, but it was worth it. We feel safer somehow. It was like a cleansing.
My publisher was quick to point out, aptly I reluctantly admit, the biblical connection here, both to the cleansing and to the season.
The Feast of Saint John closely coincides with the summer solstice. That’s John the Baptist, mind you, the guy who specialized in cleansing people of their sins in the Jordan River. He dunked Jews and gentiles alike, which would have been perfect for my wife and me because we have one of each.
We’re as excited about flying to Seattle in May to see our grandsons, daughter, and son-in-law as my sister and I were taking paper links off our “countdown-to-summer” chain more than a half-century ago.
There always seems to be a “but” in every new positive report that’s issued. We still have concerns. We remain on guard. But, yes, I said it ⎯ things are looking up.
I upgraded our tickets to guarantee an open seat between us. The Cleveland Clinic says airplane ventilation systems may actually temper the spread of the virus. Research at Harvard University suggests air travel is safer than grocery shopping.
Yeah, give me more of that kind of stuff.
Just please, please, don’t let me hear Jared Kushner tell us, as he did last spring, that the United States will be “really rocking again” by July. Someone stuff a sock in him.