It's sometimes hard to believe just how quickly summer goes by.
Yet, here we already are in what are commonly referred to as "the dog days of summer."
We tend to think of the dog days as the hottest part of the summer, usually late July to late August, when everything seems to grind to a halt. A respite, if you will, from the hustle and bustle that will return with Labour Day and the start of the school year.
For actual dogs, it's a time you're more likely to find them snoozing in the shade, than out sniffing fire hydrants. The lazy, hazy days of summer — as popularized by Nat King Cole in his 1963 hit song — even for dogs.
That has nothing to do with the origin of the term, however. The ancient Romans coined the term "dies caniculares" or "days of the dog star" which referred to the period beginning in late July (roughly July 24 to Aug. 24 when the star Sirius would rise just before or with the sun.
Because of the wobble of the Earth on its axis, the astronomical dog days are no longer the same. Sirius now begins rising with the sun in early July. Bradley Shaeffer, an astronomer at Louisiana State University calculates in roughly 13,000 years, the astronomical "dog days" will be mid-winter.
In our business, the dog days are a period of overturning every stone looking for anything that might resemble news.
Senior levels of government are on full hiatus and even municipal councils scale back their meeting schedules.
Even the pressing issues of our times — or at least people's attention to them — seem to take a bit of a holiday.
Hence, an editorial that is sure to have people muttering another well-used phrase, "must be a slow news week."
Yes, yes it is.
