A week or so ago, the temperature dropped and there was a chill in the air. After weeks of intense heat, the chill was welcome, and it had me dreaming of fall and all things cozy-spooky.
But it made me feel weird, wishing for fall in the dog days of summer, like lusting after an alluring lover while holding August in my arms. I think there are a handful of reasons it’s been easier to wish for autumn this year, but I am fighting off this urge, choosing to embrace the last few weeks of August–and with that, of summer.
Briana Bosch of Blossom and Branch Flower Farm made a video last week that really sums up this need to stay present in this waning summer. The text in the video goes as follows:
“Why do we feel so pushed to be in the next season? I love autumn as much as anyone, but sometimes it feels like we are being rushed out of the present so that we can be sold a feeling. It’ll be fall soon enough. Until then, I’ll be over here enjoying dahlias, tomatoes, and warm nights listening to crickets.”
This struck me. First of all, I’ve always been of the unpopular opinion that Christmas decorating and music belongs solely in December, and I feel rather alone in that opinion. It makes me feel like I’m being judgy–and of course I’ll admit that I am, but it has to less to do with people’s personal choices and more to do with an overall feeling I’ve been struggling to pinpoint until I watched this video.
My family sends each other photos complaining when Halloween decorations hit stores in June and Easter candy lines the shelf alongside Valentine’s day hearts. But I don’t think we’re totally out of line for being cranky about this push into the next season.
Being excited about a season is fun, and in America, we tend to anchor ourselves into these seasons with national and commercial holidays. Summer tends to be lacking in over-the-top sentimental rituals, though, making it easy to crane our necks toward pumpkin spiced lattes and Practical Magic viewing parties while fanning ourselves from the August heat.
We’ve collectively agreed what the feeling of autumn is, and companies have latched onto that feeling. But how do we feel about summer? Here in Minnesota, it’s a mad rush of busy schedules, cramming in as many activities as possible until we hunker down in winter. But I think there’s another reason we don’t know how to feel about summer, and that is because summer is about deep connection with the fruits of the earth, and for many of us, that connection is mediated by grocery stores.
When we shop at grocery stores and spend time indoors, we fall out of touch with what the earth is providing for us at a given time. As someone who has tried my hand at gardening and enjoys both farmers markets and seasonal cooking, I know that August is a time when plants are bursting forth with tomatoes, melons, corn, and stone fruits. I may not have even realized it until this year, but as much as we latch onto cloves and cinnamon and pumpkin in the fall, we can be latching onto these sweet and juicy offerings of the earth during late summer. And if I pay attention on my neighborhood walks, I do notice that dahlias and cosmos and hydrangeas and rudbeckia are stealing the show.
There actually used to be holidays celebrating the late summer harvest. Lughnasadh is a pagan holiday that originated across Ireland and Scotland. This ritual celebrated the first harvest of grain halfway between the summer solstice and autumnal equinox (around August 1) and was celebrated by baking bread and feasting. Early Christians celebrated their own version of this holiday, which they called Lammas. There are plenty of people who still honor some form of this celebration, but for most of America, summer slips by with only a few patriotic festivities–nothing that offers a warm connection to nature and the seasons.
I know there are only a couple weeks left of August, and the State Fair is Minnesota’s summer holiday for the next two weeks, but I urge you to join me in embracing the last summer harvests that nature offers. Make a southern tomato pie or a tomato corn salad. Buy some peaches from the farmer’s market and throw them on the grill, bake a peach cobbler, or just bite into one and taste the abundance nature offers. Arrange some dahlias in a vase on your dining room table. Feel the heat of the sun on your skin, smell fresh cut grass, and listen to the cicadas buzz, for soon we won’t be able to enjoy these things until next summer.
And when September creeps onto our doorstep, don’t overlook the offerings of the earth while hyperfocusing on pumpkin spiced everything. September has a lot of amazing gifts to offer, too: apples and pears, cranberries, Brussels sprouts, and the last of summer produce are here to mark the slow transition of seasons. As tempting as it is to flip a mental switch from summer to autumn, from pool parties to Halloween parties, I think it is well worth our while to ease into spooky season with the same leisure that Mother Nature does.
Poet Morgan Harper Nichols wrote the now-famous words “Let July be July. Let August be August.” Let August be August. Let September be September. Let October be October. Each month has something unique to offer, a feeling all its own. You don’t need to look to store aisles for this feeling; let the earth wrap you in the sentiments of the seasons.
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