In the fullness of summer naked ladies have popped up all around my neighborhood. (They are also called "resurrection lilies" because their lily leaves die back in springtime: Their blossoms emerge from the bare earth.)
They nod in the soft summer breeze and seem to sigh, "Summer's not forever. School will begin again in a few weeks."
I feel refreshed, rejuvenated. Almost two months of summer vacation have flown by. I've had the time and leisure to devour a high pile of books, take walks late into the morning, look deeply, and exhale fully.
Again, for the twenty-ninth time, I've begun poking around the classroom, cleaning up messes, throwing things out, and inviting thoughts about the coming year.