we still have a little over a month of summer. well, the season at least. the heat will certainly continue through october and perhaps part of november, but the spirit of summer will be long gone.
i always have a hard time during this time of year. the start of a new school year intermingling with the long, slow days of summer. although i am far out of school, i can’t help but feel nostalgic for those days when the promise of new beginnings was within reach. rested and sun-kissed, i eagerly approached the new school year with a sense of inquiry that carried me well into my studies. the collection of summer days past became mere stepping stones into what i considered the more opportune season.
it’s interesting, that years later, i maintain a similar mindset. eager to move onward. ready for the next season. how is it, though, that the existence of now – these drawn-out days of early mornings and late nights, of sun-ripened fruit and gatherings beneath the stars – be hurried? what is the force that pulls me forward, blinds me of the magic that is summer?
this may be the first year i acknowledge my hurried angst. it may be the first time i actually take heed of what i am missing out on when i long for what is next. the sweet bounty at our fingertips, the time i relish spent outside, in nature, healed by the sun and nurtured by its warmth – this is my reality now and as long as i celebrate it, live it, be it, then perhaps fall will enter into its own and i will be even more ready for it. this time, unhurried.