Late Summer

Fall is just around the corner. 

Hints of flannel and pumpkin spice are floating in on the northern gusts. One single crispy leaf blows off the tree and suddenly we all want to bake and wear sweatshirts, watch Gilmore Girls and talk about spooky season. 

I love fall. 

The problem is that it is not fall. Not even close. 

We are over a month away from the first official day of fall, and Thursday calls for a high of 98. Try to wear a sweater, I dare you. You’ll have to wash it midday from all the sweat that accumulates in the cozy prison it will become. This is late summer, guys. It’s not fall. 

I have spent almost every year of my life wishing it was fall starting in mid July. I have bemoaned and perspired through the last half of summer, dreaming of pumpkins and cinnamon. I have missed out on enjoying almost every late summer. 

Maybe it’s getting older, but I see the magic in the seasons more than I ever have before.  I love how they feel, how their particular winds soothe the skin differently. How winter brings comfort, spring brings hope, summer brings play, and fall brings reflection. 

So this year, I want to actually experience late summer. I want to notice the tiny shifts each day, the one degree difference in temperature. I want to feel late summer slip into fall, watch as the trees transition from their glorious leaved selves to the sleepy slow drifting into hibernation. I want to bite into a peach and thank God for late summer. I want to drive by the fields full of green and vibrant food that’s almost (but not quite) ready for harvest. I want us all to jam in as many paddleboarding sessions and camping trips, hikes and nature walks into this last month that we can. 

Maybe it’s because I have spent my whole life looking for the next thing that I’ve missed out on the right here thing. I don’t want to wish my life away, just because I think I’ll enjoy the next one better. What a way to throw it all away. 

Life is beautiful and terrible, complex and simple. We’re meant to feel all of it.

We only get to do this once. We only get this one late summer.