Last time I looked, tassels were turning and the BBQ was just getting warmed up, and in a heartbeat we burned through the dog days and are headed headlong into fall.
Once the county fair is over and school bells ring, summer, for all intents and purposes, is toast.
I’m apparently not alone in that realization, as friends and colleagues have noted in the past week or so how quickly the days of summer have passed us by. I know the days add up the same each year, but my perception this time around the sun seems blurred by the whirlwind that was June and July.
How exactly that happens is a mystery, though I’m sure my age has a lot to do with it. It just takes a little longer than it once did to gear up for and transition from one gig to the next, which somehow makes the second hand go faster.
There were some memorable moments, to be sure. A Sukup family reunion timed in sync with America’s 250th celebration. A joyous Texas trip to officially welcome our precious granddaughter into the fold. And some fun, if occasionally frustrating, loops around the golf course. That’s my go-to leisure activity these days, and I just can’t tee it up enough with family and friends when Nebraska weather cooperates.
And now, suddenly, here we are.
The lawn is still growing, the heat is still hanging around and there are probably a few more rounds of golf left on my card. But the calendar has already begun whispering about football, Friday nights, changing leaves and pumpkin-flavored things that nobody asked for.
Maybe that’s the real trick of summer. We spend so much time waiting for it to arrive that when it finally does, we’re busy enjoying it and don’t notice it slipping away. Then one day we look up and wonder where it went.
I suppose there’s no real answer to that question. Summer 2026 didn’t disappear. We were just busy living it. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@ hamilton.net
What happened to the summer of 2026?
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