Tis' the season for people to start talking about pumpkin lattes and school shopping and leggings and boots. People are fascinated by boots. Tis' the season for families to put away their rafts and beach towels, and my neighbors to soon stop congregating all the time outside, where we live life with each other by the pool and every year form our own kind of odd, but welcoming community there.
Almost all my favorite things: cool desserts and grilling out and fresh fruit, sitting by the pool and still warm nights you can be outside til' dark and neighbors and swimming and sun on dried up bones, this happens in summer.
I like to hold onto these favorites, because it feels like they are only there for a few short months and then, poof, gone until next year. Time to grab my warm sweaters and can someone please explain to me why we love skinny jeans so much? I honestly can do without all the winter garb.
I know I'll welcome the colder seasons with (nearly) as much ease as I did summer, but from where I sit now, I'm lost in my summer heart. I'm starting to recognize that seasons are not just about length of time but immersing myself in how there's something to appreciate in each one. And as much as I hate to admit it, this year I've come to see that the fact that any one season doesn't last forever can be a beautiful thing.
Guess what? In the end I'm not tying summer down anymore, hoping it will stand still, wishing if only we could get a few more weeks, a little more time together, all would be well.
All is well now, and I'm ready to receive what will come next, to let myself breath in cold again or let myself be surprised by an unnatural warmth I find as this season starts to pass and I open hands wider to what is to come.
Joining a community of word lovers at Lisa-Jo's place where we write for five minutes (sometimes more!) every Friday. Join in! The prompt this week is: Last.