So it’s here upon us already: Labor Day Weekend. The
official end of summer. Back to school, back to schedules, back to stress. Sigh.
Every year I dread the end of summer. I love sunshine,
warmth, flowers, ice cream cones, iced tea, swinging in my hammock, and lying
on the beach. Summertime evokes long sunny days, opportunities for adventure and
travel, and relaxing with family and friends. In “Once More to the Lake,” E.B.
White lyrically expresses this longing for an endless summer:
Summertime, oh, summertime, pattern of life
indelible, the fade-proof lake, the woods unshatterable, the pasture and the
sweetfern and the juniper forever and ever, summer without end…
But it does end. Every year.
We all think: How
did the summer go by so fast? But does anyone ever say, “Boy that was a short winter! How did it go by so fast?” I think that’s my problem: that sense that with
summer’s end comes autumn, and then boom! Winter.
Don’t get me wrong; I actually love much of
the autumn season. What’s not to love about crisp cool weather, clear cerulean
skies, and brightly colored leaves? My husband and I met and fell in love in
the autumn. On one of our first dates, we went apple-picking among the
stunning fall foliage of the Shenandoah Valley. Soccer games, football, bonfires,
hayrides, pumpkins, hot chocolate, chrysanthemums, and October’s bright blue
sky—“these are a few of my favorite things.”
But autumn is so short! Even shorter
than summer, and before we know it, winter returns. Not the winter of Christmas and the first
snow. I’m talking about the long months of winter’s brief dark days, bitter
cold, and just plain dreariness; the White Witch’s Narnia when “it’s always
winter and never Christmas.” (The older
I get, the more I understand the “snowbirds,” who escape the northern climes
each winter and head to Florida, and the more envious I am of my sister who
lives year round in Florida at the beach!).
So, that’s why I’m ambivalent about autumn. Even
though I enjoy living in Virginia where we experience the full range of the
seasons, I also dread the inevitable end of summer and the return of winter.
Thinking about this ambivalence, causes me to reflect on God’s plan in the
change of seasons. Each brings its own
delights and serves its own purposes. The Lord God promised Noah that “while
the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day
and night shall not cease” (Genesis 8:23). Just as the “heavens declare the
glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands” (Psalm 19:1), so does
nature visually tell the story of Christ’s death and resurrection in the
passage of the seasons.
Ironically, my
moments of experiencing the “joy” or sehnsucht
which C.S. Lewis describes— that “nostalgia” or yearning we feel—most often occur on an achingly
beautiful bright October day when the sight of scarlet and gold trees against
the backdrop of a brilliant blue sky pierces me with a poignant longing for
something “more.” Lewis writes most aptly
in Mere Christianity: “If I find in
myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most
probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” If Lewis is right, and I think he is, then
this longing for “something more” or for an “endless summer” is really a
longing for eternity and heaven where, as Aslan declares in The Last Battle, “the term is over: the holidays have begun.”
Heaven: my endless summer.
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