it’s that time of year:

we smack our laptops closed at 5
wrap our bodies in knitted, quilted, feather-insulated things
scramble outside to catch sunsets before they’re gone

I wonder what I’ll be doing this year
what I’ll be wearing,
what date it’ll be when the inevitable happens:

“what time is it?”
shit, I’ve been outside for hours
“oh god, it’s that late?
shit, I need to get ready for bed
“whoa, it’s still light outside!”
shit-eating grin

and then it feels real –
the days get longer
I start tracking moon phases
lose track of time
make tracks through new places.

it’s that time of year.