Something about dipping my toes into the final days of August makes me wish life would slow down, just a little. August brings Toronto’s most beautiful weather — resplendently sunny and warm and begging you to spend every spare minute outdoors. I find myself holding my breath, asking summer to last just a little longer before we’re consumed with back to school and fall clothes and an annual apple deluge and pumpkin-flavoured everything.
Through the years, I’ve become better at living right now, versus contemplating what’s up next. And when the days are so full, it makes me wish for another lazy summer Saturday with my husband, one more sweet long night on the back deck, a little more time for sky-on-fire walks in the Beaches.
This summer has, by any measure, been frenetic. We bought a house (!), spent a month in Europe, closed on said house, moved in a week later, traveled stateside for a wedding and are finally back in the city. In between, work has offered both of us a whirlwind of projects — the kind of late nights that make me happy (and thankful) that Austin and I both love what we do. We have cooked — abundantly — relishing every last vegetable in our overflowing CSA basket: corn a dozen ways, summer pastas, salads (and salads and salads and more salads), all the plums and blistery grilled everything.
Yet it’s crazy to think that we have barely enjoyed Toronto — in all her summer splendor — this year. So, August, hear me out. Please slow down. For your fleshy tomatoes and blazing days and cold rosé and beachy afternoons and island picnics and worn-in leather sandals and drippy waffle cones and lingering weekends and messy hair and barbecued corn and hazy nights, I need a little time.