All day the manic rain went unheard, until cloaked by nightfall the snow finally came, wet and clumping at first, then in earnest, letter by articulate letter. All precipitation starts as virga, never touching ground. Never minor, the first snow never simple. All summer the sky stores winter, and in one breath sheds shards to prick our upturned faces.
People in this part of the world tend to think of summer as the "free and easy" season, thanks to the amenable weather and memories of childhood summers off. But in all honestly, how often have you over-scheduled and overextended yourself, racing to make the most of summer fun, only to find yourself exhausted and wondering when you’ll get to slow down and enjoy the season?