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Why I'm ok with good things coming to an end

Summer has always felt like a gift. But what happens when it's all over?

I love summer - anyone who knows me, knows this. Warm dew rising off bracken, dusty soil underfoot on a long ramble across the common, the unexpected taste of ice cream caught on the tips of your hair and sea salt on your lips.

Early morning sunshine drying the washing you put out the night before.

Life is easy-going and sun-soaked with bright mornings and long evenings - blowing bubbles and giggling with my daughter in the garden, sitting until late in the night with friends and my near-adult son, a bottle of wine and a pack of cards open on the patio table.

It's also a time of returning home to Cornwall, to spend more than the usual few hurried days with my family - long walks chatting about this and that with my Mum, picking tomatoes in the greenhouse with my Dad and the obligatory beer and darts evening at the social club overlooking Falmouth harbour with my Stepmum and one or more of her sisters.

And then the planet turns and summer begins to fade - I'm reminded that it won't be long and the things I love about summer will be carefully packed away, ready for another year.

But I'm not sad.

Abandoned in favour of salads and barbecues in the summer, the slow cooker comes out of the cupboard and by many a mid afternoon contains a mellow apple hotpot or a fragrant dhal. As the evenings draw in, I find my crochet needle and sort yarn for Christmas present making as the idea of cosy nights takes hold.

And then there's a return to writing. I wrote a short story in the middle of a field somewhere southwest of Bude a couple of weeks ago (with a notepad and pen, there being no power supply for my laptop in the tent) and a few lines while sitting on the beach one early morning - but apart from that, I haven't had opportunity for words during August.

So, the closing days of summer also herald a reconnection of my fingers with my keyboard. With a full copywriting workload and the autumn term approaching, it will be tricky squeezing the most out of the few summer days left (and getting school shoe fitting in!) but I wouldn't have it any other way.

No two days are the same: no two seasons are the same - which is why I'm ok with good things coming to an end.

It makes way for other good things to follow and allows me to dream about when the gift of summer will come around again.

What do you love about late summer?

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