Those words are spoken with subtle longing and a sense of loss, as opposed to the potential alternate interpretation of grateful appreciation.
It's late August. Classes start Monday. The State Fair has started. There is talk of Berry Picking (yay!) All signs that the season is rapidly drawing to a close. This time is always a little bittersweet. I do love fall and I do love winter. By the second week of October I'll be anxiously awaiting the first snow fall and the first hockey game of the season. I'm looking forward to getting T out on his snowshoes (which he got for his birthday, LAST October and still hasn't used!) and to Chena Hot Springs in the winter.
But summer, summer is so fantastic, usually. Alaskan summers are amazing, usually.
This summer has been lackluster, and as a result, so has my motivation. I've only hiked a very few times. I've not been for a single recreational bike ride (though I've ridden to work and about town with specific missions plenty.) There has been no Disc Golf, no swimming, no backpacking trips, not even any camping to speak of save a few trips to the Homer Spit and a one night to dipnet on the Kenai.
It is all very sad, and I feel an intense sense of longing for an Alaskan summer. There are things to delight in even now: Berry picking will be fantastic, I love berry picking... And there is still plenty of time to hike between now and winter. But I still feel my summer is lost. And I feel it more intensely than I normally do.
Perhaps it's because I know this was likely my last summer in Alaska for several years.