Prodigal June

Dear June,
Do you see these boats?
Or how about these? Have you forgotten your beloved fleet? You took the wind from their sails when you left.
You just got up and rained out on all of them, on all of us. We loved you, June. We named drinks after you. We defended you to the tourists and newcomers. We said, "It'll clear soon--this is just so unusual for June--it's never like this...." And you made us look like fools.

If you wanted to leave us, you should have just told us. We would have given you space to find yourself, if only we had some warning. We would have planned sunny vacations far away instead of spending every day at the window, gazing through the raindrops, waiting for your return.

But know this. If you come home, even now, to resume your post in the final hours, we won't be angry. In fact, we'll throw you a party in celebration of your return. (We'll have to do it tastefully though, as there no sense ruffling July's feathers so close to her annual debut. She has been true to us all these years, after all.)

So please, return to your rightful place in summer, and behave again like the June we know and love. All will be forgiven if you just come home.

I'm linking this post up with the "You Capture: Summer" series at I Should Be Folding Laundry.
Since summer has been AWOL thus far in Maine, it's feeling like we'll have to literally hunt down, capture, and bring summer back here kicking and screaming. But alas, perhaps June finally heard my plea. I think I just discovered her trying to sneak in through my window!

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