Living in a tourist destination can be hard.
Three months of being inundated with people, places and things. The urge to jump in and act like you’re on vacation pulling against the need to work and maintain.
And the desire to enjoy it all while it lasts, because in a few short days the shops will start to shutter their windows and the restaurants will only open on weekends. The farmers market and summer concerts will be a distant memory.
And yet I’m so ready for it to be over.
So ready for the sun to set earlier and for the nights to be quieter. I’m ready to have the promenade to myself. I’m ready to stop fighting for parking spots and for the playground to be empty.
I’m ready for the sidewalks to roll up and for the leaves to start falling. I’m ready for pumpkin lattes and muffins and pies. Pretty much anything pumpkin will do.
I’m ready for slow cooked soups and afternoons cooking in my own kitchen (god willing we have a home soon). For mornings spent sipping coffee rather than rushing off to the park or the beach. I’m ready for there to be nowhere to go.
I’m ready for hayrides and the pumpkin patch and apple cider. I’m ready for costumes and candy and the distant possibility of Christmas lights.
I’m ready for my uggs and my hoodies and, oh yes, my sweat pants. I’m ready for warm layers. I’m done with shorts and flip flops and all too exposed bathing suits. I want to settle into my skin and hide it under a warm sweater.
Yes, I am ready and I feel it coming, in the cool morning breeze and the sun that sinks behind the horizon just a little bit earlier every day as if to say it’s ready too.
It’s time for this summer to set.