The secret meaning of an Indian summer

It happens every now and again that a sight of a weather forecast is so unbelievable that I cannot help but capture it. Temperatures well above 20s are something that you rarely get to see in the UK, let alone at this time of the year. This Indian summer was simply too good to be true. And if something is too good to be true, then it probably is. 

Just like other extraordinary things in our lives, the Indian summer comes when we at least expect it. It is impossible to predict it and even if it was, we would find it hard to believe and very likely laugh it away. As we do every time somebody says that our lives are about to take an unforeseen, virtually impossible, ‘more than we ever dared to wish for’ direction. Seriously, who would believe that crisp morning air, cold autumn breeze and grey drizzle, which quite rightly started announcing the winter, will be replaced by warm sunny days, so pleasantly overwhelming that they are hard to describe?

This beauty with no compare confuses us. When we already put our summer wardrobe at the back of the closet and drag out all the warm clothes and extra blankets, when we change the mind-set from summer brightness to autumn blues, life turns upside down and proves us wrong. Or right in case you are (as I am) not the most organised creature on the planet and keep on procrastinating reorganising your wardrobe. Either way, we tend to go into a self-preservation mode, striving to ignore the nice days fully aware that they are not here for long. 


Eventually and inevitably, we all fall into a carpe diem mood. This is when the indulgence phase starts. Enjoying every minute of this amazing phenomenon, putting everything else aside and losing sleep just so we would not miss a single sunshine or a starry night that we know will be gone any minute now. But as one sunny day rolls into the next one, we forget about the greyness of everyday life. Something that should not be there in the first place becomes more real and genuine than anything else.

Yet there are very clear signs, which indicate that the Indian summer is, in fact, just an illusion. The days, for example, are not as long as they should be and leaves began to change, some of them already falling off the trees. Subtly, yet persistently they remind us that the reality should be different, that it soon will be different. 

If the Indian summers should not be there in the first place and do not last long enough to have any profound impact, why do they happen? Due to their shortness, they rarely teach us a lesson. They also cannot be viewed as a cruel game, showing us how perfect life could be, but it is not, because they rarely make us sad. And they are completely out of our control, so there is nothing we can do about them, but to take them as they are. There is one thing, however, that they do do. They set memorable milestones, occasionally break records and more often than not leave unforgettable memories. Something to think and smile about over a cup of tea on a cold winter night.

The Indian summer is goodbyeing and we have no other choice, but to move on. And where exactly do we go? This reminds me of a famous and for this occasion more than appropriate J.D. Salinger’s question asked in The Catcher in the Rye: "Where do the ducks go when the pond freezes over?" The answer, even though it might seem complicated at first, is simple: they fly south. The option that I seriously entertained when I realised that everything about this Indian summer was perfect for me. So perfect, indeed, that I would wish to turn it into a rule rather than it being an exception. But then again, that would no longer be an Indian summer.