August is a
peculiar month.
There’s no
doubt in my mind
about its
strangeness.
The waning
summer, fading
with longer
shadows earlier in
the day.
A month,
made from the whims
of Romans,
numbered and toyed with
from 700 BC
to 8 BC.
It’s
historically a month of triumphs,
of
successes, fertility, meteor showers
and
civility.
August has
had dates etched on
my mind,
never forgotten,
and a marvel
for their timing.
It’s a weird
month,
full of odd
holidays and
traditions.
It’s
currently International Clown Week,
World Breastfeeding
Week, and of course,
International
Beer Day on the 5th.
A mish-mash
of events,
so if you
see a drunken breastfeeding clown,
you’ll know
why.
Because it’s
August.
And it’s
strange.
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