As a child it seemed the summer stretched on forever. Three months was a large percentage of my life at that point. Playing outside with my sister, fighting over Monopoly, afternoons at the pool with Moon pies from the vending machine, weeks with my grandmother in Denver, camping trips, boredom.

Now it feels like I turn around and another month is finished, with the year more than half over. I find myself clinging to each month, trying not to look forward too far, afraid that when I blink it will all flash by. Trying to enjoy each month for what it is good for, to be comfortable there.

July was good for rainy afternoons, soaking up the heat and humidity, drinking beer outside, cruising around on my bike, and planting things in my yard. August will be here tomorrow and with it the last month of warm nights and days at the pool. Time for hikes and drives to Abiquiu for swimming. Sundresses get some more time, but sweaters and scarves are on standby. The Farmer’s Market is entering its prime as produce spills off tables.

Though I’ve been out of school for years, an ingrained clock tells me these slow paced days are almost over and that a more rigid routine is on its way. Time for back to school shopping. I find a comfort in the rhythm of the seasons, regardless of how the routines of my life have changed.