dear september,

I've missed you. The summertime is always sweet to me; I love the warm evenings and the sparkling fireworks. I love the smell-- a combination of sunblock, the ocean and coconut (is that just me or do you agree?). I love the food: the berries, the snow cones, and the light salads. Oh, and the hot dogs. I love hot dogs. Mmmm, and potato salad. And chips. I love the classic summer activities: the beach, the camping, the evening strolls, and the movies out on the lawn accompanied by popcorn, soda and licorice. 

Summer is great. 

This summer, however, wasn't the best one I've had. Actually, this summer was easily the worst one I've had in a long time. Too much on the schedule. Too much stress.Too little sleep. Too little time with family. I felt like a different person. Grouchier. Busier. More frustrated, and grayer (hair and otherwise). My relationships, both social and personal suffered. I lost motivation. Desire. Anything that took more energy than I already had to use.

Last week when the academic year started and I got back to the grind of graduate school, I actually felt like a major weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. The weight of summer. Summer. Isn't that supposed to be the most carefree part of the year? I'm so relieved its over (though the work load is still hovering dangerously over my head). 

And the smell. It smells like dew this morning. It smells like clouds coming over the ocean. It smells like change. Even though the leaves haven't darkened, and pumpkins don't line the doorsteps (yet). 

It smells like change. For the better I'm thinking. 

When I woke up this morning, September, I noticed your soft glow seeping out of my curtains, instead of summer's piercing obnoxious beams that used to force me to wake up like a military sergeant with a megaphone. 

There's a moistness about your air, like the clouds are trying to decide what's better: rain, or almost rain. (Touch decision for me too...) 

I've always liked you, september. You feel like new school supplies and scarves with leather boots (and wool socks). Gideon's birthday on the 13th, our anniversary on the 18th. You're a special month in our family. But this year, I feel an even more special pull to you. You released me from this year's summer.

Here comes hot cocoa and pumpkins,

(and thesis concert...)