Dew is always the first sight of fall. It invades the summer morning with its charismatic veneer, softening your mind to the ideas of crisp, cool winds and quieter sunlight.
When we were younger we saw the signs more prevalently, more often, on the path to school, trudging through the wet grass as though the magical shimmering droplets were made of some other substance, always a surprise to find damp socks as we sat down into class.
Fall is always a shock at first. The good times of the summer last forever, every year, until the end. But fall, every time I see her it’s like a chance at another first impression. She never remembers me, from what I can tell, but comes in on her own designs, bluntly laying out her plans atop our shared table.
It’s still August. I still want my mornings to be heavy with mug and humidity, and the sky to prop up its queen, the sun, in her full regalia. Her cooler sister doesn’t have the reins yet. I’ve no mind to speed her along.
this made me think of my childhood and teenhood. Also made me think of the book that I considered my favorite right around the age of 16. I won't even mention it because it's not a good book. It's kind of like how described the feeling of never really being truly about the psychedelics themselves and more about how they unlocked something personal within the human.
which book is this, if you were to describe it in six nouns, two colors, and an animal?
this book made me want different things in life. want different friends. made me realize things about myself.
tell me the book that did that to you at different age groups and i can just tell you the actual book title
islands in the stream is the best summer read.
maybe the snows of kilimanjaro for winter.
for fall?
who's asking?
it's not fall yet, sucka.
are you trying to steal away the summer day?
but when i was 13, it was actually to kill a mockingbird that f'ed with me the most
in a good way, i think, but it was still f'ing with me
and white-meet-ghostly-pale color of lighting
I was blown away by as well, but this happened when I was much older. Like a senior in college lol. I remember taking time away from my actual studies to read more Hemingway. Things like and short stories like A Clean Well-Lighted Place.
It shall soon be fall though. very soon. school has already begun for the here.
i also really appreciated his lack of "he said" "she said" lines; you had to be following the dialogue and read each person's intonation/meaning to really get the juice of it. i've tried to do that myself to... varying success ha but it's a huge gauge of dialogue strength if you can carry it
Cezanne. i always see him mentioned in high art lol. gotta check him out.