Amy Lu's View

The Summer of 2023 is going to be my “Wet Waterfall Summer”!

Er, how about…”Wild Waterfall Summer”…or “Whimsical Waterfall Summer”? “Woozy Waterfall Summer”?

Hold on now, do I need to have a theme for my summer? Of course not, but I glanced at a New York Times opinion piece a while ago that was about branding summer and the idea got stuck in my head. I’ve spent so much time thinking about it, or more precisely, thinking about blogging about it, that I feel I’m obligated to write about it, even if this is a classic example of the sunk cost fallacy. (There’s got to be a band named Sunk Cost Fallacy, right?)

The opinion piece seemed to be exploring the idea of a summer of something rather concrete–so instead of a “Hot Girl Summer” or “Summer of Love,” this could be a “Caftan Summer.” And the writer did indeed use the example of “Caftan Summer” so maybe that’s part of the reason the column made such an impression on me, as my friend Bethany had just been telling us that she had discovered the joys of a caftan. 

I’m not about to declare this “Caftan Summer” for myself (not only would it be a bad look to try and steal someone else’s thunder I don’t think I could pull it off) but what would work for me? 

Inspiration hit me as I was sitting at Willow River Falls last week and totally digging everything about it. These falls were awesome, and I had just been at Minnehaha Falls the week before and Hidden Falls in Nerstand Park the week before that…was my summer turning into a Summer of Falls without me even planning it? 

Oh wait, “Summer of Falls” could be terrible. I definitely do not want to have a summer of falls or even one fall. I better make sure to keep “water” in my slogan somewhere. 

A summer of water fall does sound lovely, but is it practical? How likely am I to get to that many more waterfalls? Not only is my time and effort a consideration, it looks like we’re going to have another dry summer (#YesGlobalWarmingIsReal) so there’s a strong chance that some waterfalls will dry up (#sadness). 

In the plus column for a Waterfalls Summer, whatever summer I declare should be something rather unique….afterall “Bright Bourbon Summer” doesn’t feel all that different than a “Bold Bourbon Winter.” 

We’ve now arrived at the point in this post where I ponder parts of speech. (Alliteration for the win!). What is the difference between “Summer of X” and “X X Summer” (oh wait, that’s not supposed to be “XX” as in naughty adult content but “X” as a placeholder). What’s the difference between “Summer of Waterfalls” and “Waterfall Summer” and does there need to be an adjective?

I have no idea, but thinking about this reminds me that in 1987 I gave a speech for the Miss Augusta pageant (yes, you read that correctly) about the anniversary of the Summer of Love. I have no memory of what I said but I decidedly did NOT win. 

And returning to an observation I made at the beginning of this whatever this is, the New York Times opinion column was exploring summer themes of a more tangible variety, so “waterfalls” as opposed to “wildness.” I like trying to embrace that, because a specific thing like waterfalls can lead us into more abstract ideas like wildness and whimsy. 

So yeah, okay, 2023 is going to be my “Waterfall Summer” and it may be a big failure because I’ll never get to another waterfall, but even that might give me some blog content. And I reserve the right to play with adjectives to my summer that may or may not be alliterated, or to use my theme as a jumping off point to dive into whatever connections I can make to metaphorical waterfalls. 

To revisit the question I posed at the beginning of this piece…my summer doesn’t need a theme, but maybe having one will have benefits beyond the rewards of content for this post. Maybe it will give me content for at least one more post! Maybe it will inspire me to visit some new-to-me places. Maybe it will give me a new frame to view the summer through that sparks some new ideas and connections for me. Maybe it will help me be more intentional about and attentive to my summer, and make me feel more gratitude about however my summer plays out.

Maybe it will inspire me to learn to play the song “Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls” (on piano? ukulele?)…more likely, it will just mean the song is stuck in my head all summer.