Most months I look at the Hope Writer prompts; a few usually appeal to me, but not enough to blog every day. This month was different. I easily could write to almost all of them, but needed to set boundaries—mainly acknowledging this is a writing challenge and not an illustration one. As much as I enjoy finding or creating pics for my posts, I decided on a single peachy footer and gave myself permission to add images later.

Back then, no matter what else had been happening, summer always at least approached wonderful. Why had it been divine? Warm weather, so staying warm enough was easy as a cool fruity drink on the lanai. Long days. Summer school, summer programming. Fun food that included picnics and barbecues. Beaches, of course! Like peaches and nectarines, summer itself had a sense of ripeness and fulfillment, an aura of "I've made it! I've arrived!" Summer was driving up the North Shore of Boston. A trip up California's Central Coast.

Early in this century that ended. Not being able to wait for fall was a cataclysmic shift. Summer quit being wonderful when I started counting unproductive weeks and months and years. When my attempts to participate no longer worked. What now?