“Still summer, still summer,” I chant as my breath strains despite my effort to breathe into the wheel. There have been rumors of the fall, actually, the winter coming.
The wheel at Sterling Pond
No one even mentions fall, it’s like that fraction of a millisecond, like a 1,000 years from the perspective of billions in the planet’s history. No, here in Vermont it goes straight to winter the rumors seem to suggest. “But it’s still summer,” I smile back, still summer, now! The days are long and hot, the nights are cool with bright full moons hovering lower than ever. Yes, I realize is barely an optical illusion. The water in the lakes and rivers is reaching its ultimate end of the day swim feeling. Views at the top are clear and far flung.