Midsummer memories: Shorthand for the gloss that time, distance, and circumstances can add to simple recollection. We recall the summer celebrations of our youth as times of untainted happiness. There were never untimely storms during our youthful Festivals of the Air, our kites and gliders were always the best, the brightest, the highest-flying. The feasts always had the best food and drink, the music’s remembered harmonies are unmatched by later song.
As you get older, your appreciation of the holiday is tempered by adult realities. It’s easier to recall the year the windstorms cancelled the balloon race, and the year the roasting pit collapsed, and the times you couldn’t celebrate at all because responsibilities interfered. The years when things all went well fade into a blur, for they could never match the midsummer memories of youth.