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If summer were a woman…

She would be in her prime, not young and not old. Her round, saggy belly the evidence of the life that originated there. The laugh lines evidence of life’s lessons and their eventual tempering.

We like to think of her as bounteous, joyful, and endlessly giving.

But don’t take her smile the wrong way. She has matured enough to come into her own power. As we know too well, as the zealots constantly betray, a woman in her power is a dangerous thing.

She knows that while the sun – life itself – may be at its peak, it’s already beginning to wane.

What does she have to lose?

Now let’s say it together: “Fuck off.”

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