Summer's End

Its barely a few hours since daybreak and already the Eastern sun is beating down on the water, dishing out the last bits of summer. Soothing sounds of the surf roll against the shore, thick air hanging steadily in the stillness of an early September morning.

I recognize this is a gift from Mother Nature, and I appreciate her generosity even as I swipe the sweat from my brow. Soon enough, in the coming weeks, the bright blue sky will turn towards grey, and winter will slothly wade in like a sleek, black cat on a Hollow's eve.

I breath in deeply, exhale slowly, and in deeply again, letting my senses collide with the river's spirit.

I find a welcoming place to sit along the water's bank, the misty air kisses my cheeks, while her earthy scent invades my nostrils.

I breath in deeply, exhale slowly, and in deeply again, letting my senses collide with the river's spirit.

Her movement acts as a meditation pacifying any unsettled thoughts. I do nothing now, but experience the scene that she has so lovingly painted for all that care to explore the art of her.

I breath in deeply, exhale slowly, and in deeply again, letting my senses collide with the river's spirit.

Like an aesthete taking in a Van Gough, I settle into the piece of earth beneath me, to digest the details of the landscape, etching it into my memory.

I breath in deeply, exhale slowly, and in deeply again, letting my senses collide with the river's spirit.

I cannot long for something I have not fully appreciated, so I make the effort to mentally capture the nuances of summer's good-bye.

I breath in deeply, exhale slowly, and in deeply again, letting my senses collide with the river's spirit.

Now I am ready to accept her departure, and when I find myself in the mist of some dark winter's moment; I will have this quixotic memory to lean on.

Till we meet again, I breath in deeply, exhale slowly, and in deeply again, carrying her spirit with me.