it’s been a strange summer thus far.

of course, to declare something strange i have to provide some sort of a normalized baseline, and fortunately thinking of summer conjures up a few iconic images in my mind.

the first is long-locked in hazy memory in the days of my youth. it features our protagonist as a young boy, perhaps nine years old. school has been out long enough for the thoughts of elmers glue and #2 pencils have been fully placed on hold – pushed away into trunks and stored out of sight until september returns to impose itself. the back yard is full and green and full of adventure – the bmx bike is ready to ride, the g.i. joes are mounting an impressive defense along the road culvert, and all i can be excited to do is roll down the grassy hill. inside, the basement smells of cool damp air and the rumbling old top-load freezer in the pantry is full of fudgesicles. the library has an endless supply of books to read and there’s no pressure to get anything done other than wake up in the morning for swimming lessons and dread the return of fall.

the second is more recent and can be more precisely dated: the year was 1999, and it was my first summer in seattle, away from home. that summer was dominated by learning about the city, by the smell of an alley behind a fraternity and the simple living of grilled burgers, cheap vodka, and nothing to do but sit on the back stoop and bullshit.

the difference now is evidenced in an underlying sense of urgency, a feeling of time pressing in from all sides. under this pressure the summer has all but run off, fled with haste to some far-off destination. who can blame her?