Goodbye Summer, Hello Autumn

Dear Autumn,

Let me start by saying that I haven’t appreciated you properly. Don’t be hurt — it wasn’t you, it was me. I really mean it.

This year, we rekindled rather abruptly and it’s safe to say that I wasn’t ready for you. It wasn’t like you knocked on my door softly and asked Summer to make room for you. One day I came home and she was gone while you were there. I wish I could have been there to say goodbye; to stand and hug her awkwardly and sob into her ears even when everything was long said and done. You probably know how it goes by now. How I will count the days in the beginning, holding on to the promise that she will return to me in just a few months. Eventually though, when all the holidays are over, I will realise that I have lost track of time, and I will once again find myself hopefully looking down the road every morning, waiting for her return.

It’s not that I don’t like you, Autumn, I just really miss Summer. The mornings we had ice-cream for breakfast. The afternoons we spent in the ocean, floating on our backs right next to each other. The evenings we put lotion on our burning faces. The nights we spent talking outside…

You like different things. You like movie nights, hot coffee and books; sweaters, cozy blankets and scarfs. You carve pumpkins, sit by the fire and enjoy the sound of cold rain running down the windows. I promise I’ll join you and be more fun to be around soon.


Because here is something I’ve never told you before: I don’t know what I would do without you. Because despite all the things I enjoy about Summer, there is one thing you have taught me first. Dressed in red and green and yellow, orange, brown, and purple, you remind me that life is all about change.

In a lot of ways you are stronger than all of us. I admire you for your beauty, your courage and your bravery. You dress up for one last epic celebration. For once, nothing is too much. There’s no such thing as ‘overdressed’. You wear it best and you know it. And when the last song is played, you strip out of your clothes, putting one layer down after the other, until you stand in front of the world naked, raw and vulnerable. You let us see the fresh scars you have added over the past year, but as your dark branches reach into the sky boldly what we really understand is how much you have grown.

This morning I went for a walk and I felt your presence all around me. So before I pack my bags, change into warmer clothes and head off into yet another new season, let’s skip the awkwardness and get together.

Save me a dance for later tonight, will you?


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