Summer's Irony

Lately I've found myself watching every blessing around me and thinking, "I don't want any of this to change." From the warmth of the sun to the people sitting at the dinner table. I don't want it to go away. I don't want it to change.

The problem is: it already has. It's been changing when I haven't even noticed. There are many things, even the little ones, that have already changed and continue to change as I sit here quietly.

Summer in itself is a blessing. It's a portal to change, which is a good thing, but it's apparent perfection is there for a reason.

Summer is a stasis of comfort that prevents us from feeling anything but calm. It is constant potential and constant motion without really doing much moving at all.  It fills every breath with something new even though it's the same oxygen we've been breathing since birth. 

So when it ends, we react rashly.

Part of me wants summer to last forever. But the rest of me remembers the ironic fault behinds summer's temptations. It entices you in with warm promises and delightful sunsets, so that when the time comes to say goodbye, you'll await the next season with open arms, expecting it to be just as good as the last. 

One could assume that autumn brings nothing but the pale promise of a hard winter, but I think there is both good and bad in every change we approach. This is why summer is such a perplexing entity. It represents everything we love and hate all at once. Not many people are comfortable with change, especially people like me. Even though we know it to be something that brings more opportunities and open ends, that same positive thought fills us with shadows of anxiety. It's not something that can be fixed, but evolved. 

...Isn't it funny how some of the things we're afraid of might just be the very things that save us?


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