September again.

And just like that, August is gone. September has begun with sudden rainstorms, breezy bike rides, Harvard Square, and another attempt at something I want to do. Full moons, peaches straight from the backyard, homemade pie crusts, the best pizza of my life, two basil plants blooming on the back porch, and a load of heirloom tomatoes from the Labor Day farmer's market in Central Square. They taste like candy, like the piles of tomatoes always on my grandparents' kitchen table, sliced up with pepper with every meal. Festa has come and gone and with it reminders of how much time has passed. The chill is under the breeze again, and I can feel myself hunkering down, preparing for the transition into winter.