The best is yet to come.
August used to be among my three favourite months. One guess why? Six little letters: SUMMER. August brings memories of swim suits and vacations, BBQ’s and late night swims, perfect evening nights in Redding and frozen yogurt, last moments of summer with no agenda and back to school shopping.
Living in New Zealand now with my seasons flipped upside down August looks so different. It still is one of my favourite months. It’s a tad bit different in the South Island but in the North Island it meant warmer weather was coming, I no longer needed layers and jackets. I could smell summer coming. *sigh* I could just about taste the ice blocks (popsicles) and frappucinos. I was outside more and even tan some years. But even here August reminds me of Fiji and meeting Sam. It brings memories of sun and that feeling your stomache gets when you’re falling in love. Sweet little brown faces and hours spending time with our friends in Fiji. It meant the end of winter and the beginning of my favourite time of the year.
The last week Instagram has been filling up with back to school pictures. I found myself a little less sad this year looking at Americana pictures. I love seeing my friend’s kids in their new trendy clothes, their bright smiles and wide eyes ready for a new year. I sat outside in the sun for two hours watching Max and his friend move rocks and dirt from one spot to another and then another over and over again. It was cold and windy, I was in jeans, boots and a turtle neck sweater (the cool snow resort kind not the nerdy kind, I hope at least) but at least it was sunny. August looks so different but as we say in our house it’s not weird or bad just different. How I wish some days I was in the same rhythm as my friends and their kids, but August cold is starting to make more and more sense to me or at least seem semi normal. I will always long for summer and hot and swim suits but this year I’m thankful that at least summer is coming. That I have fond memories of this month and that I am ramping up for shorts and ice blocks and swim suits and sunshine. Living in opposite seasons is the
weirdest most different for me in a new culture, but four years in I’m almost ready to admit that August is no longer a summer month…and that’s okay.