I never actually liked summer better than winter, or any
other season. As a girl, I was stuck on the farm in summer. I missed my
friends, and had no one to play with except my little brother and the older
girls who lived at the next farm, a mile up the road. They were no fun.
Summers
were spent lying out in a clover field, whichever one my dad had decided to let
lie fallow that year, reading book after book and daydreaming about the
wonderful exciting life I would lead someday, in a city full of people. Summers
were hot and sticky, and the girdle my mother insisted I wear was like heavy
armor. As I grew older, my thirst for people led me to ride my bike the mile
and a half into town nearly every day, and the municipal swimming pool became
the center of my existence. No girdles were required under a swimming suit!
Once I got my driver's license, I spent even less time on the farm. In summer I
worked at the A & W carhopping, or sewed dresses for the next school year
with my friends. With my eye toward the End of Summer.
Autumn has
always been my favorite time of year. My birthday is in autumn. School was back
in session and there were football games and band rehearsals and a million
things to do. The days got crisp and I could wear sweaters and corduroy skirts,
my favorites. Leaves turned gorgeous red, yellow, and orange, crunching as you
walked through them, and the smell of bonfires foretold Homecoming, when the
heroes who had gone off to college returned, and Halloween. It was an exciting
time after the doldrums of summer.
