Summer is winding down, and that makes me sad.
Summer is my favorite season, by a long shot. Everything is better in the summer. Leaves are on the trees, flowers are in bloom, the sun is out longer, people are grilling all different types of delicious meat products, girls are in sundresses, and bars and restaurants set up patios outside where you can sit with friends and listen to music and have drinks well into the night. You can go to parks and read or walk your dog or fling a frisbee around like a dirty hippie or whatever, and see lots of other people doing likewise. Things are alive . Sure there are some drawbacks (it would be OK with me if bees were wiped off the planet), but the positives far outweigh the negatives for me.
Other seasons just can’t compete. Winter is cold and awful and anyone who likes it should be shipped to Siberia in a crate. Fall has football and pumpkin pie and pumpkin beer, but fall is depressing because the whole world is dying all around you (although I might feel differently if I had a mess of kids that I was itching to send back to school). Spring is cool, kind of like a Summer Lite, but most of its appeal comes from providing relief from winter. (Pleasure is the absence of pain and all that.) If I had to rank the seasons, I’d probably go: 1) Summer; 2) Spring; 3) Fall; 4) Winter. That’s probably a little low for fall as things stand now, but we could always move the start of football season to March if we really wanted to. There’s nothing stopping us.
In conclusion, here is a video of a corgi playing in a waterpark. Summer rules.