A Story For The End Of Summer
It’s a weird time of year If I am being honest.
Not weird in a bad or eerie way. Weird in a weird sort of way.
August has always been like a yearly fork in the road.
Growing up, the end of summer was about going back to school. Summer fun was over. Shopping for new bookbags and school clothes did not excite me. It was time to settle in, get back to schoolwork and stay focused on my classes.
Too soon to turn my attention to thoughts of the holidays. They were too far away.
I’ve always been oddly nostalgic about the end of summer. There has always been something about saying goodbye to summer that is different than all of the other season changes.
I’m in a pensive state of mind at the beginning of August, but by the time fall officially comes in September, I’m looking forward to long walks with golden, red, and russet-colored leaves crackling under my feet. I love Autumn, but I first have to mourn the passing of Summer.
It may sound like hyperbole to some of you, but it’s the only way I can describe it. Summer’s end has always seemed like I was losing something, like a friend moving away.
Not to worry, I’ll be gearing up for Fall and Halloween shenanigans soon enough.
