As we move into the dog days of August we are mindful that summer is moving towards the exit and we long for it to tarry just a while longer. It’s like an old acquaintance we haven’t seen for a year but with whom we can pick things up naturally where we left off.

It’s a season for the young, with its tans, endless round of activities, the food, drink, and the partying. But it is perhaps the most poignant time of year for those who reflect and “feel” the intimacies of life – like author Tony Morrison when she noted, “I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer.” Something about that kind of intuitiveness is best felt in the long days of the season.

I have encountered many this summer who seem different than they were only a few short months ago. One woman who lost her husband to cancer and was battling on the front lines of grief told me that she has felt a sense of release in the warmth of the sun’s rays, the gentle rains, her abundant garden, and the quiet evenings when memories return of walking the neighbourhood hand in hand with the love of her life. “Grief hasn’t left,” she told me over coffee, “but what we had together becomes more meaningful as the sun brings a kind of healing.” As beautiful as that reflection is, it is being felt repeatedly by thousands in our city. It’s not so much a promise of new life but the deeper meaning of the old one that makes summer so restorative.

For many, of course, it is precisely the promise of newness that summer brings that makes this time of year a favourite. Along with the season comes that long-held belief that life can begin again, that something new can happen, and that our path may take a new direction. Why? Because summer brings with it, for many, a new sense of adventure in the midst of busy lives, or as Aimee Friedman once put it: “When people went on vacation, they shed their home skins, thought they could be a new person.”

For those of us who have lived some time on this earth there is a clear sense that life is moving increasingly into the fast lane. The sense of change is everywhere, but isn’t necessarily accompanied with an abiding sense of security. Time seems to pass like a movie seen in fast speed. Stress and an unknown future take their toll on everyone, regardless of their financial, social, emotional or physical state.

And then comes summer and the longer sun-kissed days fill us with equal measure of relaxation and resurgence of energies. The days settle lazily into to one another like there’s no big rush and we hearken back to those school days when summer never seemed to end and all we did was just live and explore.

As we grow older, the warmer seasons permit us the luxury of not having to meet the demands of everyone, of not always having to live up to the expectations of others. This is our limited time, our escape, away from all those responsibilities where we get the chance to watch flowers bloom, to read a book just for ourselves, to quietly retreat into that part of ourselves that we must preserve and deepen if we are to embrace the modern world once more with a sense of purpose and hope.

Something about the summer season makes us want to believe again – in romance, in the vital memory of those we have lost, in the renewing sense that the better angels of our nature have yet a role to play in our community and in our troubled world. Somehow, after the jumble of the past year, or years, summer give it all back to us with a semblance of order and purpose. To everything there is a season and right now it’s summer’s turn to shine. Our task is to let it do its healing and energizing work. The troubles and rigors of the world are still ahead of us but can only be overcome by a people who have permitted summer to provide its magical healing touch. And we must be at our most inspired, for great challenges lay ahead of us.

Read this post in its original London Free Press format here.