Is June Spring Or Summer -

Margaret snorted. “That’s not an answer.”

“June,” he said, “is the liar of the year.” is june spring or summer

She thought about the word “June.” It didn’t feel like April’s wet mud or July’s cracked earth. June was the month of graduations and weddings, of strawberries that still tasted like a surprise. It was the month you stood in the doorway of the year, one foot in each season, deciding whether to go back for a jacket or leave it behind forever. Margaret snorted

Margaret put down her knitting. She had been a librarian for forty-two years, and she had never once catalogued June under “Spring.” “Honey, the calendar is a suggestion. The world knows what it is. Look at that sun.” It was the month you stood in the

Eloise didn’t close it. She turned, squinting. “It’s June twentieth. That’s still spring.”

That night, Eloise lay in bed with the window open. The air smelled like cut grass and something sweeter—mock orange, maybe. A cricket sawed its legs together in a rhythm that wasn’t quite the frantic pulse of August. It was slower, more tentative. Spring’s last instrument testing a summer tune.