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🕷️𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔶𝔞𝔯𝔡🕷️
the awful ache of ending august // 2025
Heart-shaped bear lumbar vertebrae at the Hunterian Museum, London
You've probably noticed how, come August, so many people seem to turn their gaze towards Autumn/Fall and Halloween. You may be one of said people, I know I am.
It's not just because you're done with the summer sun and heat. It's because it's August, not September, that marks the beginning of the turn towards the next season.
My partner and I call August the time of Summer Gothic. For though the days are hot, bright and beautiful, there's a haunting melancholy to them, for this isn't the peak of summer, that has passed, this is its dying flame.
The sun has scorched the vibrancy out of land, leaving dry and brittle remnants in its wake. The verdant greens of nature take on darker hues. Fruit hangs heavy on the branch, ready to be picked. There's a promise of decay in the air. Now is the time of the first harvest, the time to reap.
Day by day, second by second, the nights creep in, subtly stealing away the lights dominion. There's a cool touch to the evening air and with it, comes a macabre fascination for the darker days ahead.
We stand in the cusp of summer and autumn. The fall is coming.
Kinga Rajzak by Branislav Šimončík for Vogue Portugal, 2022
please repent