Seasons

At long last, it is sunny, crisp, windy, chilly, rainy, cosy, sometimes all at once. I have been waiting for this. I didn’t realize how badly I was longing for fall until suddenly, one ordinary morning, I felt cold and had to hug my arms to my chest. Fall is here – finally. And all I want to do is wear an orange or mustard coloured sweater. 

Many things in September took a strange and crooked path, forcing me down uncharted territory, and many things went just the way they were supposed to. Parts of my past were resurrected: I am a student again; a role I know how to play well. New seasons of familiar TV shows came back and I watched them all. I read books I first discovered in highschool. 

Though ghosts from my memories come floating back and old flavors find their way into the present, they return as vague outlines and dim shadows. Nothing ever comes back in exactly the same way, not even you, or love, or fashion trends. But they do come back and that’s what matters.

Seasons come back every year too but even they’re different in their own ways. Still, the comfort I feel when I notice the days slowly getting darker earlier and the air getting colder proves that the cyclical nature of life is exactly that: comforting. It’s neither boring nor a waste of time. The return of a season is really just another chance at life, another chance to get it right, to do all the things you didn’t do the year before. Here is fall: I made it to another autumn with its familiar cobwebs, and painted leaves, and the same oversized sweaters emerging from the back of the cupboards. The same as last year, only different. 

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