I could feel it this morning. That cusp between summer and fall. I stood on my porch in the dark, Venus hanging low in the velvety cloudless sky, the horizon faintly lined with the palest purple.
Summer’s surrendering. It’s plain to feel when dawn is struggling for a grasp on this world. Summer never really gained a foothold here. Never have I spent so little time sweating through the months of July and August. And now it’s truly in its last throes.
The morning breeze off the lake was warm, little tendrils lifting my hair from my neck, a lover’s caress. I shivered, rubbing the goosebumps from my arms. Even though the summer wasn’t hot, I still love the arrival of this weather. This afternoon I know I’ll go out and stand in the sun, feel the rays warm my flesh with a tingle.
And tonight, as the sun yields the sky to the moon, the air will grow crisp again. My body will cool. And I’ll get to choose whether I want to snuggle into an oversized sweatshirt or, better yet, pull him to the couch and burrow into him. Feel his skin warm, then hot against my fingers, and take advantage of the need to make a little heat.