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There are so many complex, frightening, amazing and mind-boggling things happening in the world right now.

I’m going to ignore all of them and blog about the weather.

It smelled like fall yesterday, after a week of the kind of hot humidity that almost knocks you over when you step outside. The sky was a little grey and the trees rustled in this kind of brusque way that makes you think they know a long nap is coming soon.

So. I went to the gym. I made tea. I bought some music. I cleaned my apartment. I lamented that Brian Boitano didn’t seem as impressed with my cleanliness as I did. I tried to write a toast for my sister’s upcoming wedding. I took a shower. I thought about buying new running shoes for my sister’s upcoming wedding (there’s a pre-rehearsal 5K I should probably spend the next week training for). I harvested my basil. I ate a caprese salad. I looked at General Electric’s Instagram feed. I watered my plants. I felt sad.

In general, I had a lovely Sunday. But there is something about the coming of autumn that breeds a little melancholy. Whatever ease and frivolity summer brought will be swapped out with something a little more serious and measured soon. The kids feel it, especially – they’re all headed back to school to prep for becoming little adults.

Autumn is crisp and cool, and my nearly translucent skin is built for that sideways fall sunlight, but the summertime mourning period has officially begun.

Wherever you are (but especially if you’re in the Midwest), may you enjoy the green grass and bright flowers for just a few more weeks.

Happy Labor Day.

Summer.