Hello July

Hello July

July is the seventh month of the year in the Julian and Gregorian calendars. It is called July after the name of Roman general Julius Caesar because the Roman Senate honoured him by doing so in 44 B.C. Julius himself was born in this month. Before then it was called Quintilis, being the fifth month of the calendar that started with March. It is one of the seven months with 31 days.

The month of July marks the midway point of the year, as the second half of the year commences from it. It's also considered a month of fun by many because it offers major holidays in all educational institutions across the various regions of the world. It is on average the warmest month in most of the Northern Hemisphere, where it is the second month of summer, and the coldest month in much of the Southern Hemisphere, where it is the second month of winter. In the Southern hemisphere, July is the seasonal equivalent of January in the Northern hemisphere.

In country like Pakistan, July is also the beginning of new financial year. The financial year is the year in which you have earned the income. When we talk about income, money matters come alive. Human beings need money to make life possible for things like shelter, food, healthcare bills, and a good education. In the end we all seek happiness.

Lily Williams says about July that “We can just let July be July, let the sun hang in the sky, clear your mind of all the things you're waiting on,” and Jean Hersey adds that "July is hollyhocks and hammocks, fireworks and vacations, hot and steamy weather, cool and refreshing swims, beach picnics, and vegetables all out of the garden."

F. Scott Fitzgerald opines that "And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer," and Daisaku Ikeda echoes similar feeling when expresses that “July, with its days of blue skies and time that seemingly stands still, holds a special place in my heart,” and Ann Voskamp further adds to sentiments as “I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on summer humid nights.”

Here it is important to note that the region of Sub-Continent Indo-Pak experiences a rainy season namely “Monsoon” which is all about hot and humid weather and similarly other regions also have lot of rains as the Sun tilts to Summer Solstices and Sun showers extreme ultraviolet rays and heat to warm all northern seas and huge evaporation in to the atmosphere after Spring Equinox.

The hot and humid weather results in rains and dampens the climate which has not been neglected by Marti Heal, who says that “By July, a damp Southern heat had settled down on the town like warm sweet syrup.” The same opinion is expressed by Sara Coleridge as "Hot July brings cooling showers, apricots and gillyflowers."

July Symbols

The symbolism of July speaks of boldness, regality and outdoor adventures; joy, contentment and a great deal of fun in the sun. This month is celebrated by adventurers, tourists and fun seeking humans for attaining contentment, fun and love.

The delphinium and the water lily are considered July's birth flowers, representing the month's vibrant energy and serene beauty. Each flower brings its own unique symbolism and charm, making them a perfect pair to celebrate those born in this lively and enchanting summer month. The water lily symbolizes purity, joy, and innocence. The white Larkspur also symbolizes love and happiness.

July's borne people’s birthstone is the ruby, which symbolizes contentment.

A July Day by Philip Bourke Marston

To-day the sun has steadfast been and clear.

No wind has marred the spell of hushful heat,

But, with the twilight, comes a rush and beat

Of ghost-like wings; the sky turns grey and drear,

The trees are stricken with a sudden fear.

O wind forlorn, that sayeth nothing sweet,

With what foreboding message dost them greet

The dearest month but one of all the year?

Ah, now it seems I catch the moan of seas

Whose boundaries are pale regions of dismay,

Where sad-eyed people wander without ease;

I see in thought that lamentable array,

And surely hear about the dying day

Recorded dooms and mournful prophecies.

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A Morning in July by Eugene J. Hall

The sun gleams over the mountains,

And through the hazy air

It lightens the sombre hill-sides,

And meadows green and fair.

It gilds the light clouds drifting

Adown the summer sky;

There's beauty in the dawning

Of a morning in July.

The birds are joyfully singing

Amid the leafy boughs,

While into the pastures the farm-boys

Are driving the glossy cows;

The busy bees are humming,

The larks sing in the sky;

'Tis a picture of wondrous beauty,

A morning in July.

I stand and dream of a morning,

A morning bright and fair;

When I was a merry farm-boy,

Without an earthly care.

I gaze on the grand old picture

Of woodland, field and sky;

But I am a boy no longer,

This morning in July.

The hills are here, and the mountains,

The rocks and leafy trees,

From over the waving meadows

I feel the fragrant breeze;

But those whom I knew have vanished,

And older grown am I;

I sigh as I think of the changes

Of this morning in July.

Ah! the dreams of youth are fleeting

As the fancies that fill the mind;

In the race of life we are running,

They soon are left behind.

I turn away from the picture,

And think, with a mournful sigh,

Of the forms and friends that have vanished

Since that morning in July.

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A July Noon by Helen Gray Cone

The sumachs, noiseless, by the still, hot road

Stand up as guards, with blood-red soldier plumes.

How light the hill-blue, clear of cloudy glooms!

How lone the land, with summer overflowed!

Dry crickets grate; a bee takes larger load

With low, pleased muttering, where the wild-rose blooms;

The bovine breath of sleeping fields perfumes

Warm air, with drifts of wayside spicery sowed.

Good earth, how glad a thing it is to be

Part of this full, yet placid life of thine,

Close to thy heart as humblest creatures press!

To claim our kinship with the clod, resign,

One sunny hour, the spiritual stress

That leads, though lifts, our lives away from thee!

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A July Night by John Todhunter

The dreamy, long, delicious afternoon

That filled the flowers with honey, and made well

With earliest nectar many a secret cell

Of pulping peaches, with a murmurous tune

Lulled all the woods and leas; but now, how soon

The winds have woke to break the sultry spell.

The drowsy flocks that low in the west did dwell,

Like oreads chased fleet madly by the moon!

So, Cleopatra-like has rich July,

A queen of many moods, outdreamed the day

To hold by night wild revel. Odors warm

Come panted with each gust, as royally,

Magnificent alike in calm or storm,

With some voluptuous anger she would play.

 July Poem By William Cullen Bryant

"The linden, in the fervour of July,

Hums with a louder concert. When the wind

Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime,

As when some master-hand exulting sweeps

The keys of some great organ, ye give forth

The music of the woodland depths, a hymn

Of gladness and of thanks."

July Poem by Robert F. Skillings

A very pleasant month is this

To be in a country town.

The sunlight doth the foliage kiss,

Each verdant leaflet beams with bliss,

I see not one that's brown.

Fresh zephyrs fan the thrifty trees

The oaks, the elms, the willows,

The lake's face caressed by the breeze

In imitation of the seas,

Is flecked with tiny billows.

 July Poem by Rebecca Hey

Gone are Spring's graces! mute her melodies!

Yet in their place what Summer can bestow,

Freely she yields; she tunes the river's flow

To gentlest music,—fills with sweets the breeze,—

Gives the last flush of leafage to the trees,—

Flowers to Earth's nursing bosom,—to the sky

Brightness oppressive from intensity,—

And calms, with halcyon wing, the azure seas.

Such are her spells!—yet I look back on Spring

(As middle age delights on youth to pore)

With feelings mournful, but unmurmuring.

I ever loved the bud more than the flower

And hope than full enjoyment: thence I cling

Alike to life's and nature's budding hour.