mid-august

It was the sort of weekend I always think we should have -- cool enough to turn on the oven to make a peach crumble, and to sit outside for a spell to share some while we read.  Screen door open, grill-smells wafting in, ginger seltzer, etc.

I feel seasons shift in August.  Around here, it's the start of summer break for him and the end for me.

We've spent so much time this past year talking about hopes for years to come.  I find myself dreaming of late summer, at home or at the beach or visiting down south.  Long days, with no plans and a stack of books from the library, bowls of stone fruit on the table, tomatoes growing in the backyard.