Every year when the calendar turn from August into September comes around, I find myself musing on the lyrics to a certain song about summer. It’s a lush, sappy song, dripping with poetry, femininity, and metaphor. It’s rather schmaltzy, but I do like it. Whereas earlier in the summer, you’ll find me soaking in the celebratory sounds of 80’s music, reminiscing to songs that defined the summers of my youth, late summer always brings to the surface this quintessential end-of-summer song.

I’ve been seeing stars lately. Lots of them. Not in the sense that I’m encountering dizziness or vision problems or that I’ve been hit over the head with anything. But metaphorically speaking, a shift in vision has occurred. I am not the same person I was. I have been seeing stars in the night sky, a whole array of tiny radiances beaming out from the blackened blue heavens, arranged in the shape of stories and myths.

Each day, when morning breaks, I peer out my bedroom window and my mood immediately rises to match the weather outside. Gray and foggy? So am I. Sunshine starting to peer over the horizon? It’s going to be a bold, bright day for me too. When the weather is in-between or switches too quickly between moods, I’m guaranteed to be a bit out of sorts.