What is it about the dying days of summer? They are so warm, and cozy, and carefree. I feel nostalgic, like I'm missing the days gone by.
But when the evening darkness starts to creep back in, and those 10pm walks become 8:30pm walks, I'm suddenly frantic, and uneasy. I try to relax and soak in the vestiges of the lazy sun, but I know that September is coming, like a bullet train through a darkened tunnel. Is it the looming threat of summer being taken away that makes me love it more so?
The sun is brighter somehow. The sky bluer, the sunset redder. Oh, these dying days.
