dear august

dear august, for which of your finer points shall i praise you?  for...your nectar-like scent of blackberry that only comes at this time of year...the swelling gardens and vineyards...being the sister that introduces june and july to their cousin september?  i owe you an apology, it's true.  because you haven't always been my favorite.  not that i'm the ungrateful sort, but it's just been hard in the past for me to leave behind the entire month of july untainted by work as it is and filled with 77 degree days of bliss.  you're more extreme, i guess, but granted that makes for interesting weather and more icecream.  so i suppose in a way it takes more grace to be you and i respect that.  you're famous, after all,  for lyrics like "hot august nights" and i appreciate the work you do to round out summer.  you are responsible for sending europe south in droves to the mediterranean every year.  you have a keen relationship with water; even though the river banks shrink, we teem there together there under your mediation.  it's not your fault that daily doubles and back to school nights happen during the time you are trying to perfect the solstice or give us meteor showers and blue moons and connected tides.  so i started thinking differently about you.  thanks for the 31 days of fun.  your friend, lanette