Story 642: Midsummer or Mid-Summer?

            (Friend 1 and Friend 2 sit in beach chairs facing a lake in a park and read beach-read books)

Friend 1: (Lowers the book to watch a duck land in the water and start taking a bath; to Friend 2) When is Midsummer anyway?

Friend 2: (Without looking up from reading) Northern Hemisphere or Southern?

Friend 1: Ha-ha.  (After a few moments of silence) Northern.

Friend 2: (Sets aside the book and takes out a cell phone) Well, let’s consult the Oracle, shall we?  If I can get a signal out here.  (Searches online for a minute) OK, got it: summer solstice.

Friend 1: What?!  That can’t be right.

Friend 2: (Holds out the phone to Friend 1) Oracle says so right here.

Friend 1: (Takes the phone, skims the online encyclopedia article, and hands the phone back to Friend 2) That makes no sense – why would people celebrate Midsummer at the beginning of summer?!

Friend 2: (Skims through the rest of the article) Says here the festival’s in the middle of the growing season.

Friend 1: Exactly: so why isn’t it called Midgrowing, then?

Friend 2: (Types a bit) I guess “Midsommar” has a nicer ring to it than “Mellanväxt”.

Friend 1: That’s not a real reason.

Friend 2: (Returns to the original article) Says here that it also celebrates the longest day of the year at the beginning of summer.

Friend 1: Yes, again, the beginning of summer, so why isn’t it – hang on – (Takes out a cell phone and types a bit) “Bӧrjan Av Sommaren”?

Friend 2: I dunno; go ask Scandinavian countries centuries ago when it all started.

Friend 1: (Nods and begins typing)

Friend 2: (Grabs Friend 1’s phone) I was being facetious – that wasn’t an invitation for you to cause an international incident.

Friend 1: Oh fine.  (Grabs the phone back and pockets it) So, going back to my original question: when is the midpoint of summer?

Friend 2: The exact middle of the season itself?

Friend 1: Exactly.

Friend 2: August 7.

Friend 1: (Blinks in shock) Wow – how did you know that precise date off the top of your head?

Friend 2: I read about it during summer vacation when I was 13, and I remembered it ever since.

Friend 1: Rought summer?

Friend 2: You have no idea.

Friend 1: Yeesh.  Well, good to know, thanks.

Friend 2: Why do you want to know, anyway?

Friend 1: (Stares out at the lake as more ducks arrive to bathe) Oh, just curious how much more of this glorious, magical season I have to enjoy, that’s all.

Friend 2: We’re in the middle of July.

Friend 1: (Wistfully) I know.

Friend 2: August 7 is weeks away, and even then you’d still have another month before the start of school that you no longer go to but still use as a benchmark for your year.

Friend 1: (Sighingly) I know.

Friend 2: Then why aren’t you enjoying this – (Waves an arm up at the blazing Sun and the cloudless sky and the chirping birds and the gentle breeze and the swaying trees and the green grass all around them) now?

Friend 1: I would, it’s just… fall will be here soon enough –

Friend 2: Oh, jeez.

Friend 1: And it’s supposed to thunderstorm the rest of the week, and possibly even flood because of all the drought we’ve had lately.

Friend 2: Well… we do… need the rain….

Friend 1: Yes, but must we need it right now?

Friend 2: …Yes….

Friend 1: Doesn’t it know I’m on staycation this week?

Friend 2: I… don’t think “it” cares….

Friend 1: Well then.  The entire summer, gone in a downpour flash.

Friend 2: Not the entire summer.  And not today.

Friend 1: (Grudgingly) No, not today.

Friend 2: (Staring at the ducks with Friend 1 for a few moments) Even though it’s not Midsommar or Mid-Summer, you wanna celebrate regular summer today and go to the promenade by the bay and have some ice cream?

Friend 1: I think that’s the only appropriate response to this situation, yes.

Story 639: Summer Solstice Slump

            “You know what I realized that’s getting me a little down?”

“No, what’s that?”

“I waited so long for summer this year.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, this past winter, swe actually had blizzards and everything for once, and it was so, so cold for so long.”

“Yeah?”

“And it was night for two-thirds of the day for six months.”

“Yeah?”

“And I slept for more hours than I went outside for nine months.”

“Yeah?”

“And did I mention it was so cold for so long?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, so now, it’s here.”

“Yeah?”

“Summer.  At long last.  So much Sun, so much warmth, so much time.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, it’s the same amount of time each day, but it feels like more time, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“And then it hit me.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s going the other way now.”

“Yeah – what?”

“Summer Solstice.  First day of summer.  June 21 in this half of the globe.”

“Yeah?”

“I used to look forward to it every year because it’s the start of summer, the beginning of everything good and fun and awesome and relaxing and wonderful.”

“Yeah?”

“And this year I suddenly realized: it’s not really the beginning of the beginning, it’s actually the beginning of the end.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, if Winter Solstice is that happy moment where we start gaining one minute of sunshine each day, then the horrible opposite must be true.”

“Yeah?”

“With Summer Solstice, with lose one minute of sunshine each day.”

“Yeah?  Oh, yeah.”

“Which means, every day of what I thought was amazing summer actually is getting shorter and shorter and shorter with every passing tilt of the planet on its axis!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s spring that’s the sunshine-gainer!  But it rains for almost the entire time, and then we don’t get the awesome weather and the liberating release from school into fun and vacations and parties until the end of it!”

“You haven’t been to school in decades.”

“Not the point!”

“Yeah?”

“Every moment, summer is slipping away from us, and the cruel irony is that we think we’re deep in the heart of it!  It’s so unfair!”

“Yeah?”

“Why does everything good seem to happen when it’s on its way out the door?”

“That’s life, I suppose.”

“That’s a weak argument for an intolerable situation.”

“Well, what can I tell you: it’s always been this way, and you have practically two whole months of not even noticing the earlier sunsets, so if that isn’t summer, then I don’t know what is.”

“Twenty-four-hour sunlight and constant hot weather.”

“I suggest you move to Venus, then.”

“Oh ha-ha; I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“I just want a whole season’s worth of constant sunshine to tide me over into the deep freeze with weird warm days thrown in there and the long nights of horrible, horrible late-fall, all-of-winter, and half of spring.”

“Well, even though we’re at the beginning of the end, it’s still light out after 9 p.m., so that’s something in the plus column for you.”

“…I’ll take it.”