Summer’s second act couldn’t help but be better than its first, and so we continue on with our recap of the sunny season, which finally deigned to give some merit to its name. When it all began, I found inspiration in the Doris Day version of ‘Where the Boys Are’ – which, while filled with longing and a certain undertow of melancholy, carried Day’s hopeful earnestness into something lighter and more joyful. This summer proved that even amid the season of the sun, there could be rain and wind and darkness. As we grappled with all of that, this version of ‘Where the Boys Are’ seems a more fitting encapsulation of how we spent our summer. Visions of gatherings by the pool and a return to normal now feel worlds away, and maybe this is just the way us humans have got to cope from here on out. That didn’t mean we couldn’t find happiness and light of our own, and family and close friends saved this season more than any other.
Where the boys are, someone waits for me
A smiling face, a warm embrace, two arms to hold me tenderly
Where the boys are, my true love will be
He’s walking down some street in town and I know he’s looking there for me…
When August arrived, the sun remembered it was supposed to be shining, and the weather warmed up for a few stretches of high heat and humidity. Where I’d typically be complaining of the excess of such uncomfortable temps, by this point I all but got down on my knees and praised Jesus. Summer, though late and weary, showed at last, and I began daily dips in the pool to maximize the moments. Who knew how long it would last?
Summer could, at times, feel like a Sunday sort of love.
It could be filled with sadness and melancholy, especially when a song like this reminded of the past.
A rainbow hydrant in Amsterdam. Go Rams.
The Summer Olympics continued to shine.
Painted by the light, the Japanese painted fern provides a luminous spot of beauty in any shaded space.
A sacrificial parsley plant, for the benefit of the butterflies.
Summer offered its own sort of peace, but there was still space for meditation and mindfulness. I shook off my self-imposed restraints of a Virgo-like structure and found mindfulness outside as well.
Madonna returned to the summer fold with this quiet moment of beauty from the ‘Dick Tracy’ soundtrack and that glorious summer of 1990.
Our mocktail madness continued with this delicious faux-daiquiri.
Closing out the Summer Olympics in a Speedo.
Suzie offered her take on the summer with one look.
A few days in Amsterdam with the gentlemen Ilagan – three generations of us under one roof.
Shakedown to the 80’s – a reminder of my childhood with some help from my nephew Noah.
In keeping with smaller get-togethers, it was just me and Suzie who made this much-needed friendship trip to Boston, which began with a charcuterie rose that Suzie didn’t believe in, and continued with a walk along the Esplanade.
A walk on a very hot day was tempered by the cool shade of the Boston Public Garden and frequent shopping stops along Newbury Street. Suzie picked the jazz-inflected soundtrack.
Boston embraced us with the night, sending us scuttling along the Seaport and along its enchanted cobblestone streets, and spending the weekend with Suzie was precisely the pick-up the summer needed. (And yes, Chris, we totally stuck your glasses where the sun never shines.)
Madonna turned 63, further defying the naysayers.
I found my way into caffeine through matcha.
Social media mayhem doesn’t let up just because it’s summer.
My birthday arrived in late August, and with it a requisite birthday suit shot.
Despite that cheeky peek, it was a birthday spent quietly, and happily so.
Morning glory memories before August took her leave.
My state career began in the late summer of 2001 – and after twenty years, I’m well over the hump, with only ten years left until I am eligible to retire. That puts things like summer into deeper perspective.
Rolling the yarn hints at another season to come.
September still holds summer for most of its duration.
Imitations of life in downtown Albany.
The closest we’ve gotten to a naked David Beckham shot, courtesy of his wife Victoria.
A low-key birthday celebration in Boston with Andy was a lovely way to enter the second half of my 40’s.
An early birthday wish for my Dad – a fellow Virgo – who turned 91 years old this September.
Summer, drained of color, and maybe even a little sick of herself, turns the scene over to autumn.
An epic overnight with the Ilagan twins was just as fun for me as it was for them, and sets us up nicely up for a fall season. That feels like a very fine place to end the summer. Until we meet again…
