One last balcondemia session 

 Thanks to the unusually warm weather in Southern Germany at the moment, I was able to study on my balcony this afternoon – possibly for the last time, as my final exam for my M.A. in North American Cultural Studies is next week. 

(I don’t know how I feel about that.)

“August rain; the best of summer gone, 

and the new fall not yet born.

The odd uneven time.”

– Sylvia Plath

It didn’t seem to be summer any more. I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together, and the big white hotel towel I had dragged down with me lay under my head numb as a snowdrift.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via larmoyante)

This is the 3rd or 4th time this flower my mother gave us blossomed this year. And now it’s even resisting the beginning if the gray season.

I’m a bad plant dad, I forgot its name.

August feels like a hinge in the year. Swing backwards and summer is there, swing forward and fall is waiting. I’m in the swing forward camp. I’m never sorry to the see summer end, although I’ll miss the peaches. I’m ready for sweaters and socks and new suede shoes.

Stephanie Madewell 

There is nothing better than early fall, when there is enough summer sun left to warm the day and make the day colorful.