Photos from Summer

I’m amazed each September when somehow summer switches off and fall begins. There’s a wiff in the air of the coming fall during the last weeks of summer, but it’s usually so slight that ignoring the browning and goldening grasses or the nips of crispiness in the leaves feels easy. It always feels like the end of summer is so far away even when the summer’s end is nigh.

Then it ends.

Falls starts so abruptly on the north shore that it seems like someone must have thrown a switch, turned a dial, or woke up old man winter. While waking up, old man winter starts to brew of cup of joe and that sucks the summer away.

And then before fall starts, we have that night that drops below freezing with frost warnings guaranteeing that we know it won’t be long before the ground turns white with a touch of frost and then white with feet of snow.

Summer feels fleeting in the Northwoods. It’s just July and August. While June may technically count meteorologically, it’s so buggy that it can be hard, despite all good intentions, to enjoy.

Two months of summer. That’s it.

When August hits, I always feel like I need a week of pure unadulterated photography and next year—it’s always next year—next year I planned it. You should join me.

When summer’s end is near, I always think that I didn’t do enough to take advantage of all the summer greens, the humid or lush sunrises, the early mornings, the morning dew, the waterfalls, the greens, the summer flowers, the goldenrod, the butterflies, the dragonflies, the late afternoon sun on the rocks of Artist’s Point while the tunes flow from the Gunflint Tavern to my favorite summer sunset spot as the cool waves of Lake Superior lap over my sandaled feet.

The night falls quickly in summer and then summer ends.

It isn’t as if summer doesn’t have its own problems. It does. The sweltering mid-80°F temps can feel too hot. I’m much more of a fall and winter temp type of guy. There are bugs, but usually July isn’t too bad and August is nice. The rush of summer and trying to fit everything in can feel overwhelming at times. But summer’s biggest problem is, after two months the year ends its summer career.

It was a lovely two months this year even if I didn’t get to enjoy it as much as I hoped. Until next year, lovely summer, I’ll miss you.

I’ll miss you that is until the snow starts to fall and my favorite season arrives. I can’t wait until winter. You should join me this winter in a photo adventure.

Until next time

I hope you enjoyed my ode to summer. I’ll see you again in two weeks.