the corner of beginning and ending
Today is September first, though technically this does not signify the official end of summer, as the fall equinox is exactly three weeks out. It was the quintessential dreary day, with green-gray skies and loud claps of thunder that boomed from the next town over. Just a few short days ago my partner and I were on a secluded beach an hour outside the city. We dedicated our weekend to warm lake water swimming and sand glittering in the sunshine. It made me think about all the ways we designate the start of what is here & new against the end of what was there before. Humans live intuitively by seasons and phases. This verus that. I am no different.
The move from summer into autumn exists in a nostalgic place, where one can walk outside and smell change in the air as it scarcely tumbles from the tree branches. A time to become whoever you want to be. All places, feelings, and people can seem new again. Moving forward has always proved to be accompanied by the act of leaving behind. It is within this between-space, caught inside this corner, that I feel my soul light up in ways I can't explain. This space also wrecks me; I am the type of person who is capable of waiting so long to mourn that by the time I find myself ready, I will have forgotten how altogether. Forced reacquaintings with what we already know to be true neither count as beginnings nor ends. Not much can change when we are standing still.