Summer, summer, summer time. In my mind there are lots of lines that remind of the summer time. Or, more immediately, of how it has moved behind me, the fall winding down. The snow on the ground, here and there but not for long. Until the temperature drops and it sticks around.
While I could mourn for summer, I am looking forward to many things about the coming winter. Slow snow falls in the quiet of the night. The underglow of the city lights on clouds of grey. Piles of blankets and good books. Cold walks around the lake.