Indian Summer may make no more sense than the Garden of Eden. But to understand the logic of the concept of the words themselves or the story told, we often need to delve into the cultural significance of the the concepts.
To me, Indian Summer means short periods of warmth before the long months of our removal from the warm and sunny days of summer. It meas that summer is not ending abruptly. That some memories of it may come before the Fall gives into shorter and darker days of winter. There, I said it, “winter.”
Winter tends to turn me inward, when I do most of my writing. I find that in writing I better understand myself. I don't intend that many of these writings be read. For when I turn back to them, I'm often embarrassed by what I've said.
I spent some winter months in Sweden in my younger adult days. Candles and lights of all shapes and forms appeared in many store shop windows. Many Swedes attempted to bring in light and warmth into their lives through these devices in the winter.
Even today, my wife prefers a fire in the fireplace to raising the thermostat. A fire is one of the best gifts that I might give her on the start of a winter morning, even better than providing breakfast.
I grew up in Nebraska where winters are winters and summers are usually real summers. Indian Summer never made a nick in our mentality as far climate was concerned. It was only a romantic term. As a kid I anticipated all the joy that came with summer activities. Winter was the complete opposite.
I can't understand ice fishing although the little huts that begin to appear on our small lakes in Wisconsin give a certain traditional acceptance of ice and cold.
I gave up sports as a young man so today winter sports would have the least attraction. I also gave up crossword puzzles and games of all types. I didn't do this in a sense of superiority but perhaps because these things lacked real objectives. I've also given up war games...
I'm getting away from the subject, Indian Summer. It is such a gentle and loving phrase. To me it is a gift from the natives of this country. In my mind, it has warmth and love..
Something not found much in today's ear-to-the-phone or cars-backing-out-of-parking-spaces-at-grocery-store society nor found in the treatment of the people we conquered here who seem to have given us this lovely and magic term, Indian Summer.
All philosophic interests aside for the moment, I love the magic sound of Indian Summer. We need some unique way to celebrate it when it comes. What about closing down the streets? Placing benches there, where we can sit, our faces toward the sun?