The End of the Summer

It's the final washing of the swimsuits and towels, faded from their many hours in the sun.  Placing them in the bag with the forgotten sunscreen and beach sand still in the bottom.  Knowing how many months it will be until they're needed again.

It's picking out back-to-school clothes- clean, no holes.  Thinking of sweaters and corduroys but needing shorts and t-shirts.

It's the surprise of the Jewish holidays and the traditions so familiar and so intertwined with all of fall.  Apples and honey; sweet, round challahs; dressy clothes, and days off from school just as the routines begin.

It's tucking my loves into bed when the sun has already gone down, instead of arguing about why it's time to sleep while the sun is still out.

It's the crickets singing us to sleep at night and the soft, yellow slant of light in the morning.  Cool evenings and even cooler mornings broken by hot summer heat at midday.

It's the end of crowds at the pool, the beach, the ice cream store.  

It's the last meal eaten outside while the kids play on their swingset.

It's the first night with the heavy quilt; the first morning with a sweatshirt.

It's watching the leaves start to fall; noticing that bit of brown at the edges. 

It's the return to the routine and structure of school and work; the end of our freedom of unscheduled days and car trip adventures.

It's no more late nights with faces sticky from ice cream and hair stiff from the pool.

Another summer gone by.