August: A Gentle Invitation to Slow Down

Art by Rithika Merchant - Extraterrestrial Ecosystem I Terraformation

A Note to August...

you’re arriving quietly —

no big entrance, no fireworks.

just the hum of cicadas, the warmth still lingering on linen,

and tomatoes ripening on the windowsill.

you’re not asking me to chase anything.

not more productivity, not more clarity.

you’re just inviting me to soften.

to let the heat slow my breath.

to listen more than I speak.

to notice what’s ripening in me, too.

this isn’t a season for rushing.

it’s a season for rinsing fruit under cold water,

for folding towels still warm from the sun,

for walking barefoot across woven rugs that smell like home.

i’m learning to measure time differently.

not by deadlines or milestones —

but by light, by laughter, by the rhythm of the loom.

so if i forget, august,

remind me:

it’s okay to rest.

to not be ready.

to let beauty be enough.

for now, i’ll hold your warmth gently.

and weave these moments into memory.

with gratitude,

Prickly Pears Sisters

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“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath