I never liked spring — do now — or August (do now too).

Spring because I knew winter was over, but summer hadn’t arrived. I thought spring should be warmer and prettier than it was, but it wasn’t. It shocked me that first spring since I had lived in summer mode all of my thirteen years. I never thought at least it’s not winter. But lately, once the sun is visible in the sky, for longer periods of time,

even if in february, i’m happy (er)

Who knows why I disliked August. Presume because it was a harbinger to going back to school and eventually winter. Now August is my favorite summer month because  it is hot yet the nights and mornings have a cool edge about them  its breezes  ocean water in the Northeast is better than bearable

the vegetable garden is exploding

 sweet corn  there’s a tiny sense of urgency in the air to get done what we may not be able to do in the near future  (such as ferry to Block Island, enjoy the beach before the parks close, sit outside in the sun, inhale the (it’s still summer!) heat.

i could go on

To boot, I have already sensed and commented that I will receive autumn with open arms this year. Perhaps because I am opening them more often. Some would say, including me, Nah! Neva. But really, back to the weather, what difference does the color of the sky or the temperature outside makes in my life? Unless it is extreme, it makes 0 difference. Yet

i have been a habitual future weather seeker

But haven’t lately, which is why I know, regardless of turmoils, that I am at peace with nature —

the nature of things 💙