It's the last night of August and the last full moon of summer is waning in the western sky tonight. Soon the heat will fade, soon wood smoke will drift through the sky, smelling like autumn.
I'm trying hard to enjoy it as the sun walks away to the south and the place where the water meets the sand grows cold under my feet. I want to hold on to every memory of summer, because I know how much life we'll have to live before it comes back again.
And God, I don't know if I can face another winter.
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