August

It's still July. In one day, August will be here, moving in like a middle aged, grey-haired, single woman (perhaps wearing a large straw hat). Ushering out the stifling muggy, heavy heat of July, August will arrive with stealth. It's a month that always sneaks up on me, rarely do I notice her arrival until it's too late and she is upon me.

Even if I didn't have a calendar in front of me, or a handy digital watch to tell me the date, I would probably still be able to tell that it was August. The difference is small, minor, hardly detectable, yet it is there. The unmistakable bite in the air. The edge, that is not yet sharp, but is perceptable. Slowly, the leaves begin to curl up at the edges and one by one, they release their grips on the branches and flutter to the ground. To the parched, cruncy grass that lies below, the leaves float, filling the hearts of students and teachers alike with dread at the impending school year.

I welcome August. The pace slows down, everyone becomes sluggish. Tired out from the long, hot summer days, not ready yet to accept the arrival of autumn. The world slows to a halt in August. This is my pace of life. A halt.