By the time mid-August rolls around, I'm almost always in the thick of the doldrums. What is it about this particular time of year that saps my energy, leaving me apathetic and listless? The changing light perhaps; the shortening days and the waning brilliance of the sky, even on a sunny day. The dawn comes later, the long evenings of summer recede into memory and things seem, ...well....dusty.
Last year I wrote a poem entitled August. I'm feeling the same right now. At least there's a consistency to my cyclical emotions, the roller coaster of time traversing those same twelve months of the year.
Ahhhhh. August. Sigh. I feel uninspired. Tired. Old. Defeated.
Can't wait for September.