Of summer

This might be the shortest summer yet. Peru was amazing, but it wrecked my entire sense of time. Usually by the time we hit August there's something inside telling you summer is almost over, some little time gague that has been slowly filling up since June. Peru shattered the said time gague, into which late mornings and sunny afternoons have traditionally slid so easily. But two weeks in Peru was two weeks of winter and clouds. It's tricky. The annual fireworks, too, are always a hallmark of the beginning of the end for summer, but for me, the fourth of July passed quickly and largely unnoticed in a socialist country. My sense of time, never particularily good, has been entirely debunked. I want my summer back.