Tomorrow Will Come Soon Enough

Every year on June 21, my father and my friend Jennifer would lament the first day of summer. The conversation would go something like this: Jen: “Hey there, Pete.” Dad: “Well, hello there Jen.” Jen: “You know what today is?” Dad: “I know, I know … it’s all downhill from here!” It wasn’t that they disliked summer, in fact it was entirely the opposite. However, as June 21 is the longest day of the year, they fretted because the daylight hours were going to get shorter. Of course, when December 21 came around, their phone call took on a more celebratory tone, reveling in the fact that more daylight was just around the corner.

While I may not feel quite as strongly as they did and do, I will say that August has always been a bit of a turning point for me. It’s such a dichotomy. On the one hand, I am ready for the quieter time in the Hamptons, when the traffic is more manageable, the beaches clearer and cleaner, the grocery stores accessible, and you can go to a restaurant and be seated without pledging your first born in exchange, or in my case, Leo. September and October are such a joy in the Hamptons. We are blessed with warm Indian Summers, farm stands brimming with the season’s harvests, and great festivals and community events geared more towards the local crowds and organizations. September and October are just a breath of fresh air.

On the other hand, daylight is on its slippery downward slope, the warmth of the sun begins to wane, and you know that soon you will be waking up to a dark sky in the morning, and an evening that starts around 4:30 p.m. Add to that the ensuing cold weather and you get the picture.

Still, there is a particular joy I get out of all of the seasons in the Hamptons. While I’m inclined to gravitate to warmer climes, I still love the crispness of winter, the first snow, sitting in front of my fireplace with a good book, and watching the winter landscapes on Three Mile Harbor. Some of the most beautiful photographs I’ve taken of the Harbor have been of the frozen sea. The spring tends to be fresh and damp, and it boasts the first blooms of forsythia, daffodils, more daylight and fluke season. And, of course, the planning of the garden.

The Hamptons has its own cyclical patterns, and each one of them is lovely and cathartic. Every day can be a new adventure, or not, depending on your mood and inclination. And somehow thinking about the upcoming seasons helps to keep me grounded in the present and not wish the summer away. So, I am choosing to embrace every day for what it brings. That’s not to say I won’t look forward to my tomorrows - I will, and I do. Right now, I am looking forward to a few more summer and fall backpacking trips, to the Fryeburg Fair in Maine, and to a family reunion that we promised my Uncle Henny would occur this year once he hightails it out of his rehabilitation following a very serious health scare. But I will not wish away today to get there. Tomorrow will come soon enough. So, enjoy everyday folks: live, love and cherish. Tomorrow will come soon enough.