You grieve the fact that you didn't read enough books by the pool. You miss the fact that 8:00 PM still felt like daytime. There is a specific sadness that comes when you put the fan away for the last time and realize you are closer to the end of the year than the beginning.
Don’t fight it. Don’t spend October mourning June. Put on a hoodie, make a hot drink, and walk outside to smell the decay and the possibility. what comes after summer
September is the real New Year. January is cold, hungover, and miserable. September is crisp, caffeinated, and ambitious. It’s the season of new notebooks, sharp pencils, and the sudden urge to organize your pantry. After summer comes the pressure to be productive again—and honestly? It feels kind of good. Let’s not sugarcoat it: there is a melancholy here. You grieve the fact that you didn't read
We spend all year waiting for it. The long, sun-drunk days. The late evenings on the patio. The vacations that feel like they might last forever. Don’t fight it
But after summer? The foot comes off the brake and hits the gas.