transitional period
[Another september, back to the liminal space.]
Monday at 7 pm, walking home after the sun has set and being surprised by the sudden temperature drop. Every end of season and beginning of a new one arrives the same way: without warning and all at once. The air has a cooler depth to it, everything tainted slightly golden, the sky a clearer blue.
I feel like I need transitions for the transitions, a sign so I know to prepare for the change, although I know there can be no such thing. That Ocean Vuong quote still rings true: "it's june after all & you're young / until september". Looking back at the past four months, so much in my life has shifted; my aspirations are different, the people in the foreground are different, the scenery is different.
I will never stop being amazed by how everything is always changing, and that nothing is forever. As Rainer Maria Rilke said, "No feeling is final".