Summer

Summer is time for hammocks and lemonade.

Summer – the warmest season of the year.

XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest;

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

This sonnet has often brought comfort to me. Not because I think of words written about me, but when I think of those I love and the words written as gifts to them.

^116

Summer is the season i long for all year. Once the temperatures rise and the sun is out I realize though that most of what I long for is not real and that my idea of summer is actually more a longing for perfection, warmth and happiness. In fact during the summer months i constantly feel a kind of ache, a loneliness. Perhaps because i realise then that what i wish for does not exist.

I'm looking forward to my holidays in summer. Then I can take my breakfast in the garden with my husband, swim in my pool and relax. In the evening my husband and I drink a glass wine by candellight and watch the stars and the aeroplanes.
I hope there aren't quite a lot of mistakes, because it's a long time ago since I wrote something in english.

The first manned spacecraft landing on the Moon was at 3:17 p.m. EST on July 20, 1969, when the Apollo 11 Lunar Module, the Eagle, landed in Mare Tranquillitatis, located at 0°4'5»N latitude, 23°42'28«E longitude. The Eagle landed approximately 50 kilometers from the closest highland material and approximately 400 meters west of a sharp-rimmed blocky crater about 180 meters in diameter. Astronaut Aldrin immediately began describing the the view from the window:

watermelon
corn on the cob
grilling
summer

Children dream of endless summer,
Adults, fall.

The sun burns yellow, pale, weak, cool. The mind casts for hope like a spider, finds none. Does God toy with me? Have I sunk into a new, deep hell?