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August Campfire Madness

Oh, to be young and goofy.

Summer is for these kind of memories. ¬†Two silly boys, enjoying every minute of roasting¬†marshmallows down by the water, late at night…way past their school months curfew time. Thing 2 and Phoenie sure do look like they’re up to something, don’t they? Caught in the act, perhaps?

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. ~Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

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