Alas, summer is almost over. The season may last for a few more weeks, but classes begin in a week. I'm not sure why the seasons haven't aligned themselves with the class schedule of a college student yet. It would make more sense that way, but asking for that big mountain to be moved may require a bit more than a mustard seed of faith.
Reminiscing over the last three months is wonderful and nostalgic as if it existed in years trampled deep below the dusty roads of today. The struggles of learning to cook and have self-control while trying to stuff summer full of adventures like filling the bed of a truck with watermelon seem so distant, yet just like yesterday.
I'm not quite ready for the cold. Autumn always makes me anxious. I know the bare trees and cold wind are coming soon enough. I'm not quite ready for jeans. My legs want to soak up more sunlight. They haven't quite gotten their fill with my 8-5 job this summer.
Oh summer. A breath of life. Full of growth. It's undeniable that we follow the cycles of the plants and trees around us. Grow, bend, sway, breathe in, breathe out, live.
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