There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.
People don't notice whether it's winter or summer
when they're happy. ~ Anton Chekhov ~
This was one of those perfect New England days in late summer where the spirit of autumn takes a first stealing flight, like a spy, through the ripening country-side, and, with feigned sympathy for those who droop with August heat, puts her cool cloak of bracing air about leaf and flower and human shoulders.
~Sarah Orne Jewett~