2020 — The Year Summer Died
This titled has stuck with me for some time. Sure, summer didn’t actually die…but then again it did.
COVID-19 took hold in late winter (in the US) and didn’t look back. The middle of March is when I began working from home.
Days ran together, limited to no social interactions, life halted.
My wedding postponed another year, my best friends wedding moved as well. Memories to be made, only to happen another day.
Replaced with fear, depression and the relentless agenda of our media, 2020 is the year summer died.
As I’m writing this the United States is dealing with a resurgence of COVID-19. Additional states mandating masks, cases rising. Travel restrictions between states, the country is slowing yet again.
This time of year, fairs and festivals should be in full swing. Concerts and outdoor activities lighting the dark sky. Ball games and fireworks breaking the stillness of night.
Instead, we push through summer with hesitation. We limit our exposure, told to remain distant and safe. Some normality returned but only out of economic necessity.
Fairgrounds quite. Ball parks empty and bare. Festivals and concerts cancelled.
Back to school, normally a celebration now a cause for stress. Debating whether to send children back, or keep them home learning through computers.
Colleges struggle with the same decisions as well.
We’re steadily approaching the season of rest. Leaves change colors and temperatures cool, bringing frost to our lawns.
Will children line the street, sprinting door-to-door for candy to fill their bags?
Will there be a gathering of families, complete with grandparents and cousins?
It remains to be seen, but cautious optimism fills the air. Vaccinations are being tested and global virus counts continue to fall.
While the future is uncertain, we must remain hopefully.
However, we’ll all remember 2020, the year summer died.
