an ode to late summer

I’m not going to lie, I have autumn on my mind.

Every year around this time, I can’t help but get a little ahead of myself. I start fantasizing about cozy sweaters, barn jackets, riding boots, dark nails and decorating the house with pumpkins galore.

I realize August, and sometimes even the beginning of September, can still feel very much like summer. The heat lingers, and most afternoons still warrant shorts and a T-shirt. But the nights start getting darker a little sooner, and every now and then there’s that crisp breeze in the morning that quietly warns you cooler days are nearby.

And that, my friends, is why late summer is so blissful.

It’s this little goodbye to a summer filled with freckles, tan lines, late nights and easygoing dressing, while autumn slowly starts creeping in around the edges. Suddenly you’re thinking about crawling under a vintage throw, watching You’ve Got Mail, drinking a glass of red wine (or hot cocoa) while the rain pitter-patters against the roof.

But as ready as I am for fall, late summer is our Sunday.

And if you spend all of Sunday waiting for Monday to arrive, you suddenly realize, when it’s too late, that you wasted half your weekend thinking about what comes next.

I don’t want to do that with summer.

So, this post is an ode to late summer. The Sunday of the seasons. That short, golden little stretch between the height of summer and the beginning of autumn — and all the ways I want to enjoy it before it’s gone.