It's early this year. When our children were young, they never went back until the day after Labor Day, which meant that this last week of August was the one when we'd buy school supplies, learn about teachers and schedules, take one last trip to the pool.
It's a desultory time, summer's last gasp. The zinnias are leggy, the mint has bolted, and brown leaves are sifting down from the dying oak.
How can summer be ending? There must be some mistake!