"Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it"

Russell Baker’s wry observation, “Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it,” captures the paradoxical allure of the season. On the surface, summer evokes images of bright sunshine, blue skies, laughter, and relaxation. Yet embedded within the warmth and freedom are discomforts that can border on agony: oppressive heat, relentless humidity, sunburns, buzzing mosquitoes. The season taxes our patience with sticky nights and wilting afternoons. Despite this, people embrace summer, eagerly anticipating its arrival and mourning its passing.

This peculiar duality is why summer is so powerful. There is a kind of nostalgia and joy intertwined with its hardships. People flock to beaches despite the hot sand and scorching sun, filling ice cream shops while sweat trickles down their backs. Children play for hours until they are tired and red-faced; families brave long lines in sweltering amusement parks. Even as we grumble about high temperatures, there’s delight in complaining together, sharing in both the misery and the magic.

Summer’s ‘suffering’ may also refer to the heightened emotions the season brings. The long days stretch out with possibility, inviting us to live more fully. Vacations, barbecues, fleeting romances, there are moments of bliss, but also the pangs of melancholic longing that come with knowing the season will end. With its gift of light, summer exposes us, makes us vulnerable to both the elements and our emotions. Yet the pleasures of swimming in cool lakes, the taste of seasonal fruit, and the beauty of twilight sunsets make the ‘suffering’ not just tolerable, but desirable.

Baker reminds us that some forms of discomfort are welcomed, even cherished, when wrapped in anticipation and memory. Summer’s power lies in its ability to turn suffering into something we celebrate, not in spite of the hardship, but because it makes the joys so much sweeter.