When the World Softens

Summer seems to be drawing its curtain earlier this year.

The days have turned cooler, the skies gray and moody, and rain seems to arrive just when the lawn needs it. I barely needed to bring out the hose. There were a few hot days here and there, but overall, this summer never quite felt like summer.

And strangely, I don’t mind.

Coming from a tropical country, I never imagined myself becoming someone who prefers cool weather. I can’t stand being cold, yet I love the cold. What a dichotomy.

Perhaps what I really love is not the cold, but the softness that comes with it.

When the air cools, my body feels less burdened. I move more easily. My heart softens. The world becomes quieter. Even life itself seems to breathe a little slower.

Maybe some of my tiredness this summer was simply my body asking for less heat, less effort, less pushing.

Give me a gray sky, a gentle rain, and cool air.

Sometimes, that is all it takes for the world to soften—and for me to soften with it.