Summer’s Last Hurrah

Many act like Labor Day weekend is the end of the summer, and in a lot of ways it is. But the weather has reminded me that we still have a few weeks yet of summer. We’re in those last weeks, the sultry, steamy days of late summer, when the air hangs heavily, even in the morning before the sun has risen.

Waking before dawn, I can feel the air of my bedroom hanging expectantly, waiting for the air conditioner to cycle on. It’s dark, but already I can see the haziness outside. Stepping out of the house, into the darkness, already the air hits me, a wall of heat and humidity, beckoning me out into the sweaty commute that lies ahead, and urging me back into the house, back into the artificially-cooled oasis I’ve made.

Walking to work, I saw a magnolia tree laden with new buds, getting ready to bloom again, as if reminding me that summer has not truly passed this year. While it might not be the scorching one hundred degree days, the air still feels heavy and hot, weighting down clothes, hair, and spirits. My blouse clings to my chest and belly where the sweat has already started to glisten, coalesce, and bead on my skin, rolling down in streaks as I make my way through the morning heat. Eventually, I feel saturated with humidity, and it no longer matters how long I’m out.

As the walk goes on, I can feel my body grow used to the heat, letting the sweat cool it off as I go. I feel the stark boundaries between the extra heat from the cars and the cool blasts of air from the briefly-opened doors of businesses as I make my way through a city on the verge of autumn, but not quite there. Eventually, I will smell wood smoke, cooler air, and dry leaves, but this morning, I smell the smells of the city, hanging in the humid air, unable to rise under the weight of the heat and haze. But it’s warm and familiar, and ready to dissipate, I hope.

Arriving at my office, I brace myself for the blast of icy air, feeling the sweat on my body chill, a shiver escaping for a moment, before I adjust to this, too. And when I get to my office and feel my body cool and the sweat dry, I put on a sweater against the chill of the air conditioning, looking forward to the promise of cool mornings and temperate days.

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Signs of Spring

It has been a strange season this year. Winter was, for the most part, mild and uneventful, other than one or two exciting days. But we managed to have quite a few weeks of unseasonably mild temperature. Followed by a snowstorm the week that we thought we would be gearing up for springtime.

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In my city, we celebrate the cherry blossoms, and so the beginning of spring is always marked with glee by local merchants, and by the tourists who come every year to see the blossoms. But our teasing warm spell and subsequent snowstorm brought the blossoms out early, only to freeze them on the branch. So we lack the profusion of pink and white flowers to mark the celebration and need to make do with the cherry blossom decals that pop up all over town. It’s a bit of a forced cheery sight, but reminds one of spring.

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This year’s spring is going to be a bit more subtle, a bit of a slow crawl out of grey, chilly days and towards brighter, warmer ones. A hint of green as the leaves bud on the trees. A flash of pink or violet as small flowers that resisted the early warmth crawl out of garden beds and lawns. And it is looking for these tiny creeping steps towards spring that keeps my spirits up through grey days, freak snowstorms, and chilly evenings. I yearn to wear short, floral dresses, no stockings, and sandals, but I have to cover over everything to keep warm still.

You see, technically, spring came on Monday. But it still doesn’t feel like spring, either meteorologically or emotionally to me yet. I’ve found myself mired in the quagmire of winter thoughts, bundling myself up in blankets and resorting to comforting food whenever I have the chance. Piling on down at night, and even sleeping in socks when necessary. I need a warm day and some sunshine to pull me out of this funk. I need some real springtime.

And now, the signs are there. We just need the rest of spring to join them.

A Whirlwind of Late Summer

As summer draws to a close, I’ve been busy. I’ve been on a lovely trip with Boyfriend and made some new soaps. I’ve discovered some wonderful new teas and enjoyed old favorites. As autumn draws near, I’ve done some closet-shifting and ordered some new pieces, vintage and otherwise.

I love autumn. While I love the quiet stillness and deep cold of winter best, the shift of summer to autumn is one of my favorite times of year. The weather gets colder. Early mornings seem more ethereal as it stays dark later. The transition seems more distinct, as you suddenly have mornings that you wake up chilly.

Transitional times leave me feeling meditative and reflective. The summer has been a time of moderate upheaval, at least by my measures. It’s neither been the most uneventful time, but nor has it brought my sharpest of life changes. The cooling and darkening of autumn always makes me feel like the world is getting quieter, less busy, and more restful.

This past week, I had a bad cold and had to take most of the week off. It was a welcome rest, though I was climbing the walls with boredom by the end. I have weekend plans that I feel well enough to enjoy, but I think next week I’ll have a bit more of a balanced restful week as autumn begins in earnest. I’ll take my time to contemplate the transitions of life and maybe look forward to digging out my sweaters and boots!