When did summer vacation start getting shorter?

When summer comes, I sometimes remember.

It's nothing major. It's not about a family trip, nor a special festival. It's just the sound of cicadas that were chirping from the morning. The barley tea chilled in the refrigerator. Taking over the space in front of the electric fan and playing by making sounds like "Ahhh." Such a day in summer, which should have been trivial, feels strangely nostalgic now that I've become an adult. When I was a child, just the word "summer vacation" made me excited. "Summer vacation starts tomorrow." This phrase had incredible power. Because, starting tomorrow, there was no school. I could play from the morning. I could stay up a little late at night. And above all, I felt like summer vacation would last forever. The day of the closing ceremony. Receiving the report card and heading home with a mountain of luggage. The tool box. Indoor shoes. The art set. For some reason, we even brought home all the mysterious items that had been left at school on the very last day. The road home with both hands full. It's hot. It's heavy. I'm drenched in sweat. And yet... the mood was the best. "Summer vacation starts tomorrow!" Just that made my steps light. Morning radio calisthenics. Even though it's summer vacation, for some reason, I was made to wake up early. Yes. Radio calisthenics. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I would head to the meeting place with a card hanging from my neck. Even though it's morning, it's already a bit humid. Neighborhood friends would gather, and while saying "Morning," everyone was half-asleep. And then, the music "A new morning has come" would play. If you ask whether we were actually doing the exercises... well... let's leave that aside. What's important is the end. That stamp they would press on the card. Pop. It was just that, but there was a strange sense of accomplishment. On the way home. Consulting with friends, "What are you doing today?" It was still only about 6:30 in the morning. The day had just begun. The time until 10:00 AM felt long. Thinking about it now, it's strange, but when I was a child, the day felt incredibly long. Eating breakfast. Doing a little homework. ...Just a little, you know. Looking at the clock. "It's only 9:00?!" If it were now, I'd say, "It's already 9:00?!" But back then. Even though it should have been the same hour, I feel like time flowed slowly when I was a child. If I went outside, the sun was beating down mercilessly. The heat rising from the asphalt. The sound of cicadas heard from afar. The sound of bicycle tires rolling on the road. A butterfly net in the basket. Running with friends as if we had found a secret base, saying things like, "I found a place where there are rhinoceros beetles!" Searching the roots of trees. Peering into trees where sap was oozing. Going into the bushes and getting bitten all over the legs by mosquitoes. "They're definitely here!" There was no basis for it. Even so, we were serious. Maybe when we were children, we were geniuses at turning nothing places into adventures. When it became noon, we would go home once. "It's lunchtime, so come home!" Such a voice could be heard. Returning home drenched in sweat. The moment I opened the entrance, the slightly cool air of the house. And then, opening the refrigerator. Barley tea. Why was the barley tea back then so delicious? Pouring a full glass and gulping it down... "Ahhh!" It might be beer now that I'm an adult, but the barley tea when I was a child was probably even better than that. Lunch was somen noodles, or yakisoba, or fried rice. On TV, there were summer vacation anime and reruns. The electric fan was shaking its head, "Whoosh, whoosh..." Lying down in front of it and saying "Ahhhhhh"—I think everyone has done that at least once, right? It was fun how the voice would tremble, so I would do it over and over. And then I'd get scolded. This is also summer vacation. The silence of the afternoon. After noon, the flow of time changes just a little. Unlike the energetic summer of the morning, the afternoon summer is somewhat sleepy. The whitish light coming through the curtains. The sound of the TV. The cicadas in the distance. The electric fan. Lying on the tatami or the floor. I had intended to do my homework, but before I knew it... I was asleep. When I wake up, it's 3:00 PM. I feel somewhat lonely. I get the feeling that "today is going to end." But there is ice cream in the refrigerator. Revival! I liked the summer evening the best. Even though it was so hot during the day, the wind changes in the evening. The sky gradually changes from blue to orange. The evening cicadas chirp. Kana-kana-kana... A slightly lonely sound, different from the cicadas of the day. Pushing my bicycle with a body tired from playing, I head home. "See you tomorrow!" "Yeah!" I can see them tomorrow too. So, parting wasn't lonely. As I approached home, I could smell dinner from somewhere. Maybe it's curry. Maybe it's grilled fish. Smelling those scents, I headed home. At night, there were nighttime pleasures. Taking a bath. Eating dinner. Watching TV. Even though it was usually time to sleep, I was allowed to stay up a little late with the mysterious privilege of "because it's summer vacation." There were nights when we did fireworks. The smell of mosquito coils. A bucket filled with water. Handheld fireworks. Even though they were scattering sparks vigorously at first, they gradually became smaller, and finally, they would drop with a "plop..." Who could keep the sparkler burning the longest? We got serious about things like that. And when the fireworks ended, the garden that had been bright until just a moment ago suddenly felt dark. Summer nights were mysterious. They were fun, but also a little lonely. When did summer vacation start getting shorter? When I was a child. Summer vacation was endlessly long. July. August. Looking at the calendar, there were still many days off. And yet, from around August 20th... reality would suddenly strike. Yes. Homework. Book reports. Independent research. Calculation drills. Kanji. Picture diaries. I, who kept saying "it's still okay," would suddenly bear all the responsibility on August 31st. "Why didn't you do it?!" I'd get scolded by my parents. No... that's... please tell that to the me in July. But. Even that long summer vacation felt surprisingly short when it reached the last day. And now that I've become an adult. Summer has become even shorter. Before I know it, July is over. Obon comes. Before I know it, August is also over. Even though the days used to be so long. Maybe it didn't disappear. We adults live while looking at schedules, looking at clocks, looking at smartphones, and thinking about what to do next. So, maybe the time to savor the day in front of us has decreased. But, a summer evening. The sound of evening cicadas that I suddenly heard. The smell of dinner drifting from someone's house. The laughter of children heard in the distance. The ice cream I found at the supermarket that I used to eat a lot. In such moments, the summer I had forgotten comes back unexpectedly. "Ah... how nostalgic." Only in the moment I think that, maybe we can return to those days a little. The road I ran on with a butterfly net. The evening I raced through with friends on bicycles. Cold barley tea. Electric fans. Fireworks. Summer festivals. The sound of cicadas. The August I kept running away from homework. It doesn't have to be a special memory. Rather, the days that were nothing at all remain in my heart in a mysterious way. Perhaps, happiness is something you don't notice at the time. We back then didn't bother to think, "Today was fun too." We just played, laughed, got tired, and slept. That was all. But looking back now, I think that such a day was very luxurious. This year, too, summer has come. It is not the same summer as before. I cannot go back. Even so. Let's drink a glass of cold barley tea, put down the smartphone for a little while, and try looking at the evening sky. Kana-kana-kana... If evening cicadas are chirping somewhere, the summer vacation you had forgotten might gently peek out from your heart. And, if you can think, "Those days were fun," then just that will make today a little kinder. What is the "scent of summer vacation" that remains in your memory? Is it barley tea? Is it mosquito coils? Is it the chlorine of a pool? Is it fireworks? Or is it the smell of your grandmother's house? If you'd like, please tell me one of your "unforgettable summer vacations" in the comments. If you read someone else's memory, another person's summer might suddenly come back to life. This summer, too, will probably become a summer that we will someday look back on and think, "How nostalgic." When you think about it that way, you want to cherish even the ordinary today a little bit, don't you?