Up until several years ago, the most melancholy time of year for me was New Years. Not because of the prospect of the new year itself, but because it marked the end of Christmas. Yes, I love me some Christmastime, and having to put all of its holiday cheer into storage once made me profoundly sad.
Now, I would count Labor Day weekend as the most sobering time of year. Recently, the unofficial end of summer has taken on new meaning and presents newer burdens that I hadn’t carried before. There’s tons to do in order to get the house ready for winter nesting. However, I can’t say that the downside of summer’s end is really a “downside.” After all, there’s nothing better than an autumn’s evening breeze and the beauty of fall colors in nature. Summer’s hectic pace of vacationing here and going there calms somewhat, and free time once again becomes a little more attainable. There’s a new crop of TV shows to check out (and probably end up hating, or really liking before they get canceled after one season), and dinners become cozy and comforting again.