It is evening. I've turned on the lights inside even though it's not quite dark. I am wearing a fleece jacket even though it's not quite cold. The window is open, even though it's not quite warm. It is the end of May, but it is not quite June.
Everything is not quite done, like a grilled cheese where the inside is not quite melted. Nobody has quite decided if it's summer yet. Even summer is not quite sure. But everyone knows that summer is coming.
In nature, the future is predictable. The details of any given day may be obscured, but everyone knows the general rules and patterns. Everyone knows that spring is followed by summer, which is followed by fall. Everyone knows that the waters will get warmer, the trees greener. Everyone knows that there will be humid days where the very air seems to be sweating. There will be dry days. There will be warm, still nights where the fireflies come out of hiding to blink purposefully in the darkness. There will be thunderstorms.
As the summer comes to a close, there will be crisp nights. There will be languid warm waters. There will be slow, golden afternoons and buzzing cicadas. Nobody will be quite sure when summer ends, either. No one will quite know if it is summer or autumn. But they will not be concerned. Because in nature, the future is predictable. Everyone knows what comes next.
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Counting Down the Days
PoesíaIt is the summer before I leave for college, and I am staring into the empty abyss before me, wondering what to do with my life. In this collection, I am challenging myself to write something every day (now adjusted to every 2-3 days). I may write p...