Ferris Wheels In August
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, Tuck
Everlasting
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