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Originally Posted by Estelyn Telcontar
To keep on topic, I assign cold August weather - no sunny afternoons or warm evenings sitting on the patio, July's tan fades rapidly, the days grow shorter anyway, and winter seems to draw closer more quickly when the days are gray.
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But ST, the end of August... the beginning of autumn... it's so bitterly beautiful. The fading brightness of summer green, the weeping blossoms doomed to sleep... The crimson and golden of singing leaves in the trees who keep rhythm with the windblown brush of branches... The shivers from the winds of change, the unpredictable storms, the promise of snows to come so long from now, but still so soon, and the resurrection of sweaters and an excuse to snuggle indoors beneath quilts and throws with a good book and good tea. The smell of hot soup simmering to ward off the chills that come with the season... How could you assign the end of summer when it heralds the coming of fall?
