My past two articles in “My Favorite Things” have been a bit out of order. My first of the semester was about the TV shows I will be starting and continuing this fall. My second was about my summer spent in Baltimore. In keeping with this theme of writing whatever I want in whatever order it comes to me, this article is no different. I write this with a hot tea at my side and in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. It pains me to say that I have accepted the fact that it is fall. Nevertheless, here it is, my eulogy for summer.
Summer, you are sorely missed. While school started in August — a month that is technically still summer but for all intents and purposes fall — in my mind, summer had left me. When I finally got my schedule set and bought my books, I thought to myself, well, this is it. My last fall at Hopkins. And all I really want is summer back.
I consider ordering a pumpkin-spiced latte to be the most eye roll-inducing and inevitable occurrence in fall, and I did it the other day. I’ll admit it. I practically whispered it at the cash register while I yelled at myself in my head for ordering something so perfectly ordinary.
The truth is that I do actually enjoy drinking them. The problem is that this seasonal, beloved beverage marks the beginning of fall in my brain, and it truly hits me when I drink it that summer is over and that we are the furthest we will ever be from the next summer.
I am the type of person who will wear flip flops in April to try to coax spring back to Baltimore. So, when deciding upon when to start ordering this fall drink, I waited as long as possible. One day, it was 60 degrees and it felt like the appropriate thing to do. When the barista shouted my order at the innocent patrons, I sheepishly grabbed my pumpkin spiced latte and sat down to read the City Paper. I tugged at the sleeves of my sweatshirt when I picked up my mug, as the café (not a Starbucks) was a bit drafty. I thought of sitting in this same café in July, in shorts, drinking lemonade, reading the City Paper and waiting to pick up my cousin from Penn Station because she was coming to visit me for the weekend.
I actually love fall. I grew up in New York City where I have to go to Central Park to see some leaves change color. I have fond memories of driving out of town and seeing rolling mountains of orange, red, brown. I love that good TV is back on. I love Halloween and thinking of a punderful costume. I love watching Hocus Pocus and It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. I like wearing sweaters because they are warm and simple to throw on when I go to class.
But as I write this, I’m finding, I won’t just miss summer because of vacations, because it is so easy to be carefree and happy and because my birthday is in August. At this time, like I said, I feel like I had an amazing summer, and it is done, and I have accepted that it is fall. The thing is that fall is one step closer to graduation. Fall will become winter, winter will become spring, May 21, 2015 will come and poof, I’m gone. That’s the scariest thought.
