The Martlet

Poet Alexander Pope was right — you can escape the sun, but there is no escaping love when summer turns the whole world brighter.

It’s a season that tempts us with the sight of fresh leaves and blushing blossoms, with the sound of singing birds and gushing streams, with the fragrance of warm earth and wildflowers, and with the touch of summer breezes and sunshine.

Then, of course, there are the ever-shrinking summer garments that expose more sinuous sun-kissed skin with each passing day, pushing the thermostat up that final notch to set the blood to boiling. Add the pheromone-filled sweat dripping down those interesting parts of aforementioned luscious skin, and it sends the hormones into hysteria.

How can mere mortals survive temptation under such sensory overload? How are we to resist when our own chemistry conspires against us? Oscar Wilde had it right when he said, “I can resist everything except temptation.”

But some of us shy types who are easily heartbroken fear the lusty frenzy of summer months. After all, a summer fling is usually just a fling. The end of summer usually means back to school, work and mundane life, while the romance of a hot season is gone. Gone are our dreamy lovers, back to their own university at the other Canadian coast, or simply back to being worried students trying to live between essay deadlines and work shifts.

And when distance or demanding student life intrudes, forget it. Soon you’re posting little “Hi … um … how are you?” notes on the Facebook wall of your erstwhile lover, praying that you don’t get a “Hi … um … who are you?” reply.

Thus the wise of mind and weak of heart ask: is a summer fling worth it? And I say, “Aye, aye.”

Follow your heart and hormones (but play safe), and you shall not regret the summer fling. If you don’t, you might regret chances that were not taken, and dreamboats that were never proposed.

Besides, you need some stories to impress your rebellious teenagers with when they question whether a 40-something can ever truly understand the trials and tribulations, joys and heartbreaks of the teenage life that is “so, like, unreal — like you won’t even believe the new guy in my class who’s like, so cute.” So if you’re afraid to do it for yourself, have a fling for your children — or just to defend your self-esteem when you do have children.

Hike the hems and drop the waists. Put your heart on a sleeve, or strap, or something, and start gambling in that game of love. You might not win the jackpot, but you’ll sure have fun trying.

And there’s always hope. Maybe your summer love will survive the ravages of old man winter, geographical separation and other tribulations. Maybe like Sandy Olsson and Danny Zuko your summer dream ripped at the seams of fall will get sewn back together come next summer. And in case you don’t know Sandy and Danny, go watch Grease. It’s all the incentive you’ll need to give summer love a try.