Did summer just peak?
There comes a moment at the midpoint of every hot season when the weather, the good times, the energy of bright and sunny days builds up like a swelling wave and finally breaks onto the shores of our collective longing.
The dog days are still in front of us, to be sure, but some subtle shift has already taken place that will slowly eclipse all the little hot and sweaty details of what we call “summer” until we’re fumbling through closets to pull out our fall wardrobe.
How you measure this fleeting moment may vary. The meteorological midpoint is mid-July. The astronomical midpoint isn’t until August. 7. Or you might consult your summer event calendar; when more dates have been crossed out than remain circled, the season is tilting on its axis.
The tilt was more than apparent last weekend in Davis Square, where multiple threads of summer fun tied themselves into lovely knots in the plazas, parks and venues that dot the neighborhood.
Down in Davis, the “Alive at 5” concert series held every Friday at Statue Park, featured the music of Railyard Haunts and Bearmonster. The bands set up beneath the shade of the Bradford pear trees and under the watchful eyes of James Tylers’ masked “Ten Figures.”
Up in Crystal Ballroom, down in The Rockwell and within the Dragon’s Lair, more than 80 musical acts took their turns onstage for Nice, a Fest, throughout the weekend, while visual projection art outfit Digital Awareness, donning signature red jumpsuits, sprayed every wall with illuminated brilliance.
In Davis Square Plaza, DJ Groanman spun country-western records with one hand while cradling his newborn like a plump eggplant with the other. Folk artists Justin Arena and Molly O’Leary performed acoustic duets. Vintage retailers and arts vendors tabled and tented in every available nook. Browsers and buyers pored over the merchandise like ants on a fallen corn cob.
The mewlings of traditional Irish music floated out the front door of the Burren. Mike’s Food & Spirits blasted a Top 40 mix on repeat. The homeless and unhoused traded smokes and dirty jokes. Symphonies of sound, both composed and incidental, evaporated into the street noise of honks and screeching brakes as a small fleet of MBTA red line shuttle buses tried to soften the blow of irregular T service.
Everywhere you looked and listened, signs of life unfurled like the sail of a tall ship catching the full breeze. For a moment it felt like the wind would never slacken, and we’d sail forever into the infinite blue horizon to unknown lands that only the eyes of Matt Damon’s Odysseus have seen.
But the wind does slacken. The music does go silent. The lights do go out. The tenters and tablers all fold up their wares and go home. The summer isn’t at its end – the end, though, feels like it’s in sight.
Down in Davis returns to Statute Park this Friday, warming up the 9-to-5-ers to the weekend with the postcountry psych rock of Western Faults. There are still more fests to enjoy. Somergloom, the moody and melancholy closer to the summer festival season, awaits in early August, ready to transmute our mourning over a fading season into a special kind of catharsis that revels in the glory of loss and new memories.
Remember the essay prompt that your teacher always used to greet you with when you returned to the classroom each fall? How did you spend your summer vacation?
I hope we’re spending it well. Because summer comes, goes, bestows its sweet blessing before we can look up to say “thank you.”
Summer is a gift and this is my thank-you note.
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