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So, the summer is drawing to a close. I have yet to pack my bags and head off to school. Well, the packing of bags is a lie. That has been done for a few days yet. My blood sugars have dropped in anticipation of awkward encounters and making friends anew again. My travel luck seems to have turned around, but there is always room for that to change especially because I am moving to a very remote part of the Pacific Northwest for the quarter.
But, as the summer wears on, I become reflective and increasingly angry as my brother has changed my autocorrect to change I to Iraq. (I have no idea how to change it back.) The last burning days of summer seems romantic, but it is also accurate. As the hills of Los Angeles are once again on fire to kick off what we like to call “fire season.” The fires are out for now, but the air pollution lingers in the valleys. Just our daily reminder of the fires to come.
Part of me is sad to be leaving LA again, but the majority is glad to be getting out again. After all my friends leave for their respective colleges, what is there left in this city—sprawl of anonymity for me? Library books, hot afternoons and the occasional morning fog.
So the summer is drawing to a close and I am satisfied because library books and hot afternoons can be found anywhere.
