Summer is soft and delicate like the petals of a flower. It's scent lingers in my memory like an favorite bittersweet melody. A desperate need to cling onto the sunshine for fear that one fallen leaf might take away the very treasure you seek the most.

Time.

August is like a ticking clock that brings us back to reality. The
light and frivolity of May, June and July have evaporated in the mist and now the hot, dog-days of August, steam open the blatant
truth that time ticks on. Youth fades like the flower but what
remains is even stronger than the oak tree.

Wisdom.

When I was a child, summer was my favorite time of year. I would
splash in the lake, time was not the enemy, but the promise
of better things to come. I was idealistic, kind, creative
and happy. I wanted to linger in the sunshine and even embraced
the fall and winter and new times of wonder. Oh, to be a child
again.

I look to the winter because it is a time of contemplation, of
retreat and coldness. You still have a choice of opening the
door against the winter chill and letting the snowflakes dance
on your face or putting the scarf over your face in sheer defiance. I choose to embrace the moment.


Never forget that time is what makes up the hours, minutes
and seconds of our lives. No matter what hour of your life this
is, it can be a grand life. Life is a gift. Take it. Live it.
Be happy. And maybe if you are lucky, a hundred years from now, someone might learn from you, your laughter, your words, your sunshine, your song.