For me, the saddest time is not winter, but the approach of fall. I don't hate the fall season. I love it! But knowing that summer and the vibe it has brought is withering into a memory is a hard pill to swallow. In summer, I'm invincible; I am reborn with every hot burst of sun, thriving to gather the energy of every new day, leaving little or no wasted moments in my wake. Every summer day is a new awakening, brought about by the renewed anticipation of Mother Earth's sun-song upon us. Get the point? I freakin' LOVE summer so much that it pains me to see it dissolve.
The first thing that I notice is a shortened day. Just a few days ago (and it's been a while since I've actually realized this and posted this narrative), I was fully aware that it was dark at 8 o'clock in the evening (edit: at this time, even sooner). Already. Sadness is upon me. Next, the leaves shed new colors and die, and the sky will be overcast with impending change. But all good things must end.
The first thing that I notice is a shortened day. Just a few days ago (and it's been a while since I've actually realized this and posted this narrative), I was fully aware that it was dark at 8 o'clock in the evening (edit: at this time, even sooner). Already. Sadness is upon me. Next, the leaves shed new colors and die, and the sky will be overcast with impending change. But all good things must end.

