Unwritten In November

The summer lingers in my mind even as the cold of the impending winter bites into my bones.

- - -

The boardwalk was surprisingly busy for a Saturday in November. An older, heavy set man strolled passed me with his face shoved into a bucket of Thrasher's french fries. (I smiled because, if you know anything about Thrasher's, then you understand exactly how reasonable that is.) Seagulls squawked and picked at the remains of fries and funnel cakes left on the ground. The arcades were open: the music of bells and whistles streamed out into the chilly afternoon air. A little boy ran up behind his sister and pulled the trigger on a neon orange cap gun. Startled, she smacked him on the shoulder and then returned her attention to the guy behind the Atlantic Stand counter.

I zipped up my jacket and blinked as the cold wind swept through the crowd. I kept walking. Life goes on. It must.

Just a few months ago, the summer blistered our bodies. The days reached over 100 degrees; there was little relief from the heat and the haze and the humidity. We passed those days on the beach... under umbrellas, icy bottles of cider in our hands, our blanket just a short sprint from the cool refuge of the ocean. The clouds never lingered too long. We laughed and talked and day dreamed. And, although the sun was burning everything in sight, life seemed easy.

We stared out, straight ahead... The horizon was endless. A perfect blue line between this world and heaven: it looks like a promise stretched out in front of you. Your eyes get lost in the expanse of it and your mind wanders towards the unseen edges. Everything and anything is possible. The future is unwritten. All you have to do is believe.

Just believe.

I spent those days with my head lost in the spaces between the sand and the breakers, that little place where the sea foam bubbles up and quickly fades away. I did not care how much the sun burned my skin: the only things that mattered were the sounds of laughter, the smile of a friend, the wishes made on falling stars, the pulse of the sea, running for miles in the last minutes of daylight, watching the sunrise, stealing a quiet moment to enjoy a fiery orange moon, and pushing towards that horizon full of unknowns.

Because I did believe. I still do.

But now, walking the boardwalk, all zipped up in a thick jacket with my hands buried in my pockets to keep them warm, I couldn't help but feel the pangs of sadness in my heart. I miss the warmth of the summer. I miss the feeling of the sun on my skin and the sheer exhaustion of an afternoon in the Atlantic. I miss the days lasting longer into the twilight and the moments when night finally came and the stars emerged from a black velvet sky. I miss lying on my back and begging for one to fall down.

My eyes traveled ahead. Many of the stores had closed up for the winter and that further served to reinforce that my summer was gone. I looked out towards the ocean, over the sand, towards that beautiful horizon... The cold air brought tears to my eyes. (Or, at least, that's what I told myself.)

As I turned around to head back, I tried to shake the lonely feeling that had rooted down inside of me. This wasn't going to be forever, I reminded myself. It's just a temporary hibernation. The seasons come and go as is their very nature. The cycles must complete: summer to autumn to winter to spring to summer again. This is how life works and we cannot stay in one frame forever. We shouldn't.

I glanced again, this time over my shoulder, at the sand stretching out towards the sea and the sea pushing against the sky. When the winter comes, I will seek refuge in my warm memories of a glorious summer. And, when the spring comes and all the brown turns to green again, I will emerge too... a stronger version of me. Growing and rebuilding. The sadness will be flushed out. After the days and months ahead, my eyes will be clearer and my heart will be healed.

And when the times comes, I will shed my winter skin. I will be ready for the strength of my summer sun.