Summer in the City

Summer has a personality in New York City. I feel her wafting through my open window right now; this season is a force. Summer seemed to arrive overnight, as though everyone in the city knew the exact moment when Spring held its doors open and Summer slammed them shut. The heat is almost tropical, so too are the huge purple flowers in my backyard. The heat storms come with the warning of a single flash of lightning before baring down loud, oppressive rain and ear-shattering thunder. And without letting up, they're gone.
Everything in a New York Summer happens in an instant. A dog is let outside, he barks, and is shushed back inside. A mosquito lands and its business is done. Sunset is a quick affair, making room for an even hotter night. Sometimes I am so taken by the dappled light of an oak tree's shadow, and I remind myself that in no time at all, those leaves will be dropped, brittle and crunching, and then they will be gone.
Yes, fall is always just around the corner, as we receive shipment after shipment of wool sweaters at Anthropologie. I am excited, though, for wool sweaters are one of Anthro's highlights. I can't wait for it to be just crisp enough outside to wear layers of wool that match the leaves. I can't wait for my first pair of tights, my first donning of boots, the first twist of scarf around my neck.
But I am somewhat ashamed of myself, to be looking toward a new season when the glorious one we've got has hardly started. I'm not ready for summer to be over, just perpetually thinking about what comes next. For now there is outdoor dining to be done, Central Park's concerts to be heard, long walks through Prospect Park and rooftop exhibitions at The Met. I'm going to bathe myself in this New York City summer, so that I'll have no regrets when the air makes its turn toward fall.