There's Something About August

By Andrea Scarpino

In Marquette, the weather has begun to turn cool—cooler, at least, than I expect, barely 50 degrees this morning. The light is changing, growing darker earlier in the evening, and taking on a softer, less direct glow. The trees are getting ready to change colors—bursts of yellow leaves hide here and there among the green. There’s something about the end of August that makes me feel contemplative, as if my psyche’s inward turn mirrors nature’s gearing down from summer. 

The last August of his life, I wrote to David Citino, one of my mentors at Ohio State, about how I felt like I should be getting ready to go back to school, should be drinking apple cider and eating donuts. He replied that late August reminded him of corduroy pants and a new lunchbox. And I remember thinking, yes. Exactly. So late August is here again, and I’m feeling contemplative, feeling like I need a new pair of corduroys, feeling like I should take advantage of every moment of sunlight while it lasts, feeling like I should get ready for new teachers, another year of learning. 

My dear friend Carrie visited this weekend from Wisconsin. We talked poetry, Olympics, our various animals, drank beer, ate Thai food. We walked around Marquette’s abandoned orphanage, a five-story red sandstone building with plywood boards across the windows. We tried to find a way in, but found graffiti and some abandoned mattresses instead. We hiked along Lake Superior, went to the farmers’ market, bought new clothes, sat in my living room. 

To me, at least, it was the perfect end-of-August visit, the perfect way to wrap up the summer, to move into autumn’s particularities. I know there is still some summer left—later in the week, the temperature is supposed to rise to the high 70s again. But there’s a definite change in the air, a shifting of light. A definite move away from summer’s noisy abundance into the quieter, more contemplative autumn. And I’m beginning to realize I welcome it. 

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto