The sooner I sleep, the sooner it’s over
Today, I managed to walk to my classes without losing half my water weight. That means the summer is breaking. I won’t have to worry about heat stroke during my runs (rule of thumb: when I can’t sweat anymore, it’s time to go inside), and in another month it might feel like Cross Country outside. Some of my friends are happy about this development, and I understand that. One reason we associate spring with life is that summer is so intense, it goes in the other direction: sometimes, the grass can’t even survive the heat. Half of July, I felt like I was living inside a coffin.
Even when Durham resembled Vivaldi’s “Summer,” though, I savored it because I knew this would be my last North Carolina August, and I’m a tad somber for its passing. The graduation clock is ticking but not yet ringing, and I sense I’m appreciating this place more than I have before. What is good, I love, and what is not is good for a laugh at least. At last weekend’s Catholic Beach Retreat, where I met the nicest freshman class ever, I was the last one in bed each night because the sooner I slept, the sooner it would be over. This is senior year, and sunset is the most breathtaking part of the day.