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Shorting out



I wore a t-shirt and shorts on my first day of classes. It was my feeble, doomed effort to hold on to summer for a little bit longer. Maybe it’s just me, but we don’t seem to mourn the passing of any other season like we do summer. When the leaves turn colours, we start to feel we are losing something. Perhaps summer reminds us of fond childhood memories: of simpler and easier times that we can never have back. And so I cling to the trappings of summer, and of youth, for a little while longer, reluctant to surrender to the realities and responsibilities of age. Now the winds are turning cold, and I can no longer continue the charade. I must now shoulder my jacket and my responsibilities both.

Image: Simer Haer/The Cascade

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