i feel a bit like the days are slipping away too quickly. like every time i write the date i get a mental flash of that sand cliche, a fistful of sand showering out from between clenched fingers, and i have to bite down a rising tide of minor panic. like where did september even go?
september always feels cooler than this, in my memory. more fall than summer, so that when the equinox hits it feels like blessing, a recognition of what’s already happening, not what’s still to come.
i don’t miss life in new hampshire often, but when i do it’s in september.
i put nutmeg & maple syrup in my oatmeal this morning, and i bought a sweater’s worth of burnt red linen yarn yesterday. all i need now is worn flannel & my ll bean boots and i’ll be a walking new england stereotype.
tea’s finished brewing, & i have a paper to write.