August has flown by, once again, and given way to September, taking summer from two Broadturn teenagers and a bright-eyed member of the first grade. As we trade in luxurious breakfasts for hurriedly packed lunch boxes and last minute preparation, we discuss our days. We have really lived summer these past months.
Fall begins with promise. A promise for a fresh start and a clean slate. A promise of brand new textbooks and pencils, new smells and light, even the cold air feels delightfully different to our sun-kissed skin.
But it’s hard to say how we really feel about the autumn months. Indeed, we long for the peace of winter, but we’ll never gain as much freedom as we have in these teenage years.
We grow in the summer, but we learn in the fall. The summers end with a blur of memories. With our bare feet on warm grass, sticky treats clinging to the corners of our mouths, and knots of uncombed hair tickling between our shoulder blades, we grow tall and strong from the long days.
On many recent nights, I have found myself walking through the fields. Between rows of crops I have watched the sky fill with stars. I can feel autumn the most on those nights. When I lie on the damp grass I feel summer tiptoeing away. As spectacular and exciting as the onset, the end is sneaky. One day in the next few weeks, we will stand outside with frozen air pouring from our mouths and discover that it has vanished.
We can remember to laugh and be thankful, and not too serious about the coming months of studying and work.
We can realize our growth.