This lovely ode to August has me thinking about the coming month more than I was before I found it. In fact, I was thinking mostly about September, which only proves Zak's point. August is a means to an end - the ambiguous bridge between carefree summer and get-to-work fall.
At work, I'm thinking about September and how to prepare. At home, we're painting our townhouse. We're planning our careers. We are moving into new things.
For us, August means settling down. The buzz of our engagement and wedding has dwindled, and we've had time to recover. As August begins, my daydreams are divided by breezy beaches and October football games. I think of sand under my toes, but then I remember the crisp, alluring scent of autumn's air.
This is the month I spend a little extra time hugging Herbie, and I miss my little brother. I think of visiting Atlanta but can't be sure when it'll be. I read a lot. I remember that I wanted to make a really great Sangria before the season's end, but I think about picking apples to resurrect that cake from Cleveland.
August, you're open to interpretation, and I'm glad you're here.
p.s. Photo from August 2011 in Charleston.
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