We have plenty of sunshine and warm temperatures left, but it never seizes to amaze me how every year, come August, I start to think about fall and fall clothing. I am not one of those who start wearing black tights by looking at the calendar, but autumn is, hands down, my favourite season to get dressed. I anticipate the subtle hints of fall, even if a part of me dreads its arrival. I love the smells of late summer: crisp fruitiness, slowly decaying plants, the earth.
There are several things I miss about Finland. One is the gradual disappearance of sunlit evenings in late summer. One day in August you just notice that it is getting darker much faster than you anticipated. Going for a walk with a friend would suddenly involve strolling under streetlights after months of midnight sun. The apples we stole were cold on the surface. My mother would need to think of extra light fixtures for her annual garden crayfish party.
I haven't pinned down those small phases of August here in upstate New York. My instincts don't recognize patterns yet. I don't go walking late at night here. I don't steal any apples, and there is no crayfish party. To me, at this point anyway, August feels just like July. The days are so warm, the crickets loud and the evenings sweaty.
The pictures are from my inspiration scrap book.