The First Week of August

sunrise82414

 

dand7819175

 

sunrise81115

 

IMG_1136

 

sunrise813151

 

 

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer,
the top of the live-long year,
like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.

The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring,
and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn,
but the first week of August is motionless, and hot.

It is curiously silent, too,
with blank white dawns and glaring noons,
and sunsets smeared with too much color.
~Natalie Babbitt from Tuck Everlasting

 

dandysunset8

 

sunrise8114

 

After a few days of milder summer respite, we’ve returned to temperatures in the nineties this week.  No one asked me if enduring such heat was a reasonable way to usher in the first week of August.

So here I sit silently rocking and sweating in the highest vantage point of this year’s ferris wheel ride, hanging breathlessly mid-air, appreciating the brief pause in the endless cycle of days.

Having just arrived at the top, I will venture to look down, knowing I am simply along for the ride, and Someone else is at the controls.  I might as well enjoy the view of all that is behind, alongside and in front of me, but especially what is below, holding me up in thin air.

All too quickly will come the descent into autumn, my stomach leaping into my chest with the lurch forward into the unknown.  As the climb to get here took so long, I am not quite ready for this inevitable drop back into the chill.

Hot or not, it’s best to celebrate this first week in August for all it’s splash and glare.  At least I’m swinging in what little breeze there is, endeavoring to capture the moment forever.

 

sunset8243

 

sunset825165

 

 

 

IMG_1114

 

At the Top of the Ferris Wheel

photo of the Seattle Great Wheel by Anthony May Photography

“The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.”
― Natalie Babbitt from Tuck Everlasting 

Our summer finally hit this week with temperatures topping 90 degrees.  The rest of the country has been suffering in heat and drought for two months while we in the northwest wondered where summer was hiding itself.

So here I sit silent and sweating in the highest seat of the Ferris Wheel this week, appreciative of the brief pause, enjoying the view of what is behind, alongside and in front, looking down all around me.  Too soon will be the descent into autumn coming, arriving just over the top, my stomach leaping into my chest with the lurch forward into the unknown.  As the climb took so long, I am never quite ready for this inevitable drop back into the chill.

Best to celebrate this first week in August, finally having arrived at the very top of the year.  I’m swinging in the breeze,  capturing the moment forever.