To me, summer once meant sprawling in a sun soaked reverie, of a loved one’s embrace. Eating a sandwich filled with crisp chips after getting out of a cold pool, and jumping back in with the taste of my snack still there. Juice boxes, sweet and sticky, and feeling my toes in the sand. I never wondered when fall would come, until I saw the leaves change. It’s almost as if, as I grew, I learned that so do fruits and flowers after planting them in spring. That my toes can touch the sand even when the skies weep. I don’t need the sun to touch my face to feel warmth. A hot cup of tea by a fireplace when it’s snowing is just as warm. Sharing a plate of snacks with people you care for most, and writing letters to someone you love is just as cozy. Summer sometimes has rain, and heartbreak. Just as fall and winter and spring do. It reminds us of our capacity to love deeply. And as I weep with the sky, giving it to the flowers to bloom, I long for the times I didn’t think much about how the leaves change. But change should not be feared, but embraced, just as the leaves never fear to fall. There is beauty in letting go. Desperately human moments, where the world turns on you, and the sun hides in the clouds. But still, the flowers bloom, as we do with them.