Today feels like the last day of summer. Autumn has been creeping in slowly, a whisper on the morning breeze and a sudden chill off the water, but then the days break wide open into exuberant sunshine and heat, late sunsets turning my living room orange and red after dinner.
I know today is different though. It’s supposed to rain for several days in a row, bringing the temperature way down (for which I am grateful), and then I have guests, and then it’s Labor Day, and as we all know, everything becomes different once that long weekend is over.
After the unusually scorching days of June and July, coolness has been pressing in, giving the heat a smaller and smaller grasp. I want a hot drink more often than iced coffee in the morning, and as I head to yoga, I have to throw a sweatshirt on.
My days involve the same lackadaisical routines, habits formed in the bright hot, but I sense a change just around the corner. I’ve been moving things into place to create a more substantial life for myself here, and just as children go back to school and build their knowledge and their small social spheres and (hopefully) their character, I too stand poised to expand my world.
So I will sit back today and let the hot rays glance off the water, as I look down to the Bay. I will sip rosé, knowing its sweet days are numbered, and I will exhale, knowing the next inhale I pull may be a little cooler, a little heavier but with some clarity outlined in a crisp breeze.