In the middle of winter when frost decorates the windows of my studio and I pull on another sweater, I’ll think back to summer days in my garden, cicadas singing, sketchbook on my lap.

It’s hard to believe this is the last week of my month of gratitude. August has flown by.

I think back to childhood Augusts with school looming and days of freedom dwindling. Back-to-school was both exciting and welcome but also tinged with sadness for the ending of summer.