We have a string of late summer birthdays in our house, which means we have a string of late winter half-birthdays as well. The grownups don’t necessarily count their half years with the same sort of excitement as the younger ones, and anyway, I’m working my way towards my thirty-ninth year in a few weeks (a year I might claim from here on out). I do think the mark of a half a year is interesting though, particularly when you think of the high contrast between early August and early February.
It is so, so cold here – and has been for awhile. But it was so, so hot back in August – I can remember running in heat that topped the hundred degree mark like an idiot. I found this photo from six months ago of one of our heat beating strategies.
The winter won’t last forever. It will warm up again, and then blister us, leaving us longing for cooler weather and sweater time again. An important cycle, and rhythm, and marking of time – like birthday cakes and new old ages around the table.