Quite literally, I think. I always feel a bit strange at this time of the year. This last week of summer for children across Canada. In a few days it will be the Labour Day weekend and then there will be school. For me, this was always the week that seemed to fly by the fastest of all. The week you tried to hold on to like sand slipping through your fingers. Eventually, September always arrived.
This year, this week is both a blessing and a curse. I suppose I could have let it pass by unremarked; simply continued on my usual routine, but I didn't. Instead, I jumped in the car yesterday to head up to the lake house for a few last days of peace and quiet and summer sun. But it has made this whole thing rather bittersweet. It is hard to look at the trees and lake and rocks and every little thing and wonder 'is this the very last time I'll see it?' It's very hard to say goodbye, not knowing if you're coming back. But I needed this.
Tonight the lake is quiet. Almost everyone is up, but the lights are dim and the noise is non-existant. The occasional car passing by on the highway and the crickets chirping are the only sounds. No boats, no animals, no people. Just silence. The novetly of sleeping with the window open never gets old. The sheer peace of gazing up at a sky strewn with ten thousand stars seen by the naked eye alone. The quiet of good company and good food and no need to say anything.
In two weeks I leave for California. Two weeks after that I leave for England. There is so much to do next month and so many things that will change. But for tonight, I can gaze out at my own bit of heaven on these last days of summer and smile.
ETA: There will be more about museums and such in the coming months, I promise.