“The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning, The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.”
"You can’t pick out the pieces and leave the rest. Being part of the whole thing, that’s the blessing."
- Natalie Babbitt
Connection to Earth
"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone."
- Natalie Babbitt
Reflection
"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color."
- Natalie Babbitt
Reflection
"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone."
- Natalie Babbitt
Reflection
"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, lke the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone."
- Natalie Babbitt
Reflection
"Christmas is a time when you get homesick, even when you're home."
- Carol Nelson
Nature
"We count down the days just to experience it nearly exactly as we always have. It is so comfortable, familiar and perfectly nostalgic that, frankly, we have no desire to improve upon it at all."
- Joanna Gaines
Nature
"The smells of Christmas are the smells of childhood."
- Richard Paul Evans
Nature
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime."
- Laura Ingalls Wilder
Nature
"We count down the days just to experience it nearly exactly as we always have. It is so comfortable, familiar, and perfectly nostalgic that, frankly, we have no desire to improve upon it at all."
- Joanna Gaines
Nature