Things to Remember From August

The scent of ripening peaches filling up the kitchen.
Soft skin gently pulling away from flesh, juice dripping down my wrists over the sink, sweetness, savored.
Catching the final strands of pink sky after the sunrise.
Succumbing to the comfort of a brand new rotating tower fan in the midst of a slew of intensely hot days.
Podcast after podcast and the satisfaction of a clean and admirable basement storage room; a job well done.
Nutella spread across an ample slice of homemade zucchini bread.
Wishing we had a house if only to have an excuse to buy that vintage pink stove, and the midcentury-modern king-sized bed frame that came with nightstands attached.
A solo date with beer and french fries that looked deceptively like onion rings.
Discovering Scott Bradley's Postmodern Jukebox.
Tasting summer cherry tomatoes with a clerk at the grocery store.
Telling my yoga class to slowly make their way onto their backs and looking up to see them all waiting in anticipation of my usual core-centered ten-count slow lean-back, when I was going to give them a reprieve from it.
Hearing Coldplay's Yellow on the radio; thinking of my dad and being a teenager.
The scent of lavender bushes filling the air.
An odd little bluebird frolicking happily on a neighbor's front lawn.
Recognizing a 22-year old version of myself in an eager new student.
Spending slow morning hours listening to Mysterious Universe with Shawn.
Putting up shelves in the apartment for the sole purpose of having more plants.
Buying more plants to fill up those shelves.
Spotting three new cats on my way to and from work all in one day. One particularly sweet one with the same name as a friend.
Brunch at a new-to-me spot before work with a friend I hadn't seen in months; putting pins in conversations.
Waking up in time to watch the sunrise.
Late night thunderstorms; Lucifer cuddling close.
Needing a few minutes to process good news; the excitement of the prospect of something new.