Yes, I know, the autumn equinox is over two weeks away, but make no mistake — the unofficial summer season ends when Labor Day ends.
Every year I view the passing of summer with a particular nostalgia. Having an August birthday, I always remembered returning to school a year older than when I last opened a book. Nearly 40 years after graduating from high school, I still view September as moving from one chapter of that book to the next.
Even though this summer has sped by, it’s been especially challenging. So much moving — so much moving on. I want to grab the sun with both hands and clutch it tightly, begging it not to set, and yet knowing that it must.
trading sighs —
the last breath