Once upon a time, I used to wish that August would never end. As long as August was still on the calendar, life was good. Days at the pool. Nights outside with no thoughts of homework or alarm clocks. Sleeping late. I wouldn’t have minded if August had lasted a couple of years.
At some point though, that changed.
It was probably the summer before senior year in high school when I was first impatient for August to end, because once August was over, the end of high school was beginning.
There’s always something hopeful about September. Maybe because it’s my birthday month. Maybe it’s because the brutal heat and humidity finally break. September always meant new clothes. New friends. A change of scenery.
The older I get, the more tiresome August becomes. It’s not August’s fault. Truth be told, August does have a lot going for it–namely tomatoes and the premier of Mad Men. But the clothes that were new back in May have lost their sheen. The novelty of wearing sandals has worn off. The air in the hermetically sealed, air-conditioned house has grown stale. My summer repertoire of dishes starts to bore and I long to cook soups and pot roasts and chili.
If you look for them though, signs of change do start to show in August. Foggy mornings are a precursor to fall. Spiders spin more elaborate webs. Leaves begin to curl around the edges and take on a slight yellow hue.
And in colleges across the land, football teams start to practice.
This time of year, every team has a winning record and a chance for glory.
There’s 24 days before my team kicks off the season.
Hurry up August. Don’t let the screen door hit you on your way out.