June: Is Summer Hot?

June is the sixth month of the Gregorian calendar and is named after the Roman goddess Juno, the wife of Jupiter and the goddess of marriage and childbirth. The origin term “June” means “young” from the Latin word Iūnō. June is the month of freshness, joy, happiness, wishes, and desire. “The beauty of June day is almost staggering. Everything that could turn green, outdoes itself in greenness and everything dreaming to bloom blossoms. The sunlight is a benediction. 

Summer is traditionally associated with hot or warm weather. The sun shines longer in the summer and the longer the sun shines, the hotter it gets. The sun's rays also hit the Earth at a steep angle in the summer increasing the amount of solar energy focused on one area and contributing to the increased heat in summer. The peak of summer is the month of June, because it marks the summer solstice, which is the longest day of the year (21 June). This is a time of year in Northern hemisphere for the abundance of light and warmth that the sun provides.

Gary Zukav says that “Both the Winter and the Summer Solstices are expressions of love. They show us the opposition of light and dark, expansion and contraction, that characterize our experiences in the Earth school so that we can recognize our options as we move through our lives.” June is a summer month in the northern half of the world. “June is the gateway to summer”, and it announces with a bang “June is here”, as the energy store house "Sun" blazes its most shiny face to the human dwellings. The month of June raises query for all beings “ It's Summer now, Are you ready for it ? 

Maud Hart Lovelace, says in Betsy-Tacy and Tib “It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.” If sunshine day is like what said here then Bernard Williams must be right for saying “If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.” In such a season, when life become celebrations then Jean Hersey has said about it so eloquently “June is the month of dreams, I think; Gardeners watch their roses, pink. Birds leave the nest and try their wings And songbirds learn just how to sing.” 

The June is Summer Month and Summer is hot but refreshing and life changing in the region of the world where English Language is spoken and read as mother tongue. 

Why was June made?—Can you guess?

June was made for happiness!

Even the trees

Know this, and the breeze

That loves to play

Outside all day,

And never is too bold or rough,

Like March's wind, but just a tiny blow's enough;

And all the fields know

A something in a summer's Day

As slow her flambeaux burn away

Which solemnizes me.

A something in a summer's noon—

A depth—an Azure—a perfume—

Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer's night

A something so transporting bright

I clap my hands to see—

Then veil my too inspecting face

Lets such a subtle—shimmering grace

Flutter too far for me—

The wizard fingers never rest—

The purple brook within the breast

Still chafes it narrow bed—

Still rears the East her amber Flag—

Guides still the sun along the Crag

His Caravan of Red—

So looking on—the night—the morn

Conclude the wonder gay—

And I meet, coming thro' the dews

Another summer's Day!

Great is the sun, and wide he goes

  Through empty heaven without repose;

  And in the blue and glowing days

  More thick than rain he showers his rays.

  Though closer still the blinds we pull

  To keep the shady parlour cool,

  Yet he will find a chink or two

  To slip his golden fingers through.

  The dusty attic spider-clad

  He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;

  And through the broken edge of tiles

  Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

  Meantime his golden face around

  He bares to all the garden ground,

  And sheds a warm and glittering look

  Among the ivy's inmost nook.

  Above the hills, along the blue,

  Round the bright air with footing true,

  To please the child, to paint the rose,

  The gardener of the World, he goes.

Evening, and all the birds 

In a chorus of shimmering sound 

Are easing their hearts of joy 

For miles around.

The air is blue and sweet, 

The few first stars are white,-- 

Oh let me like the birds 

Sing before night.

This is so—

June was not made for wind and stress,

June was made for happiness;

Little happy daisy faces

Show it in the meadow places,

And they call out when I pass,

"Stay and play here in the grass."

June was made for happy things,

Boats and flowers, stars and wings,

Not for wind and stress,

June was made for happiness!

 I feel the breath of the summer night,

  Aromatic fire:

  The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir

  With tender desire.

  The white moths flutter about the lamp,

  Enamoured with light;

  And a thousand creatures softly sing

  A song to the night!

  But I am alone, and how can I sing

  Praises to thee?

  Come, Night! unveil the beautiful soul

  That waiteth for me.