My nose is misguided and sentimental today. With the dry air, it says it’s October, walking home from the bus stop. With the plunge from sunshine into air conditioning, it says it’s Abel Elementary, post-recess.
Any time after Easter, weather like this is bitter sweet. It’s not the welcome of sunshiny spring; it’s not the cooling off of approaching Halloween. As soon as I think to savor the warm, dry air, I remember that it’s just a mirage, and oppressive summer is just around the corner.
Still and all, a late-June lunch in Laurel Park is never bad. Thursday is the October of the work week, anyway, and whatever the weather, Friday will be winter.