It's Labor Day weekend, and for many of us, that marks the unofficial end of summer and the beginning of the school year. I know that many of you began your school year last week, or even two or three weeks ago, depending on where you live in the country. Different regions start at different times for reasons of climate and local custom. But here in the Northeast, Labor Day traditionally tolls the end of summer vacation.

You might be surprised to know that adults continue to think this way long after they leave school behind. Those of us who work all summer long still can't seem to get used to it. It seems unnatural. Our biorhythms were set during our childhood years and decades of adulthood can't change it.

Summer is for being outdoors, for nonrequired reading, for living off the clock, for experiencing life in ways that the classroom (or the office) don't allow. It's for play and exploration and daydreaming and night sky gazing. Summer is for water--the salty seashore, the crisp mountain lake, the backyard pool, the lawn sprinkler, or even the city fire hydrant if that's what you've got.

Is this what summer's really about, or am I being selective and nostalgic? I know; some of you had to spend summer in school. You had to tackle required summer reading. Maybe you spent long, empty days playing video games and doing nothing much.