A Change of Seasons

The summer sun's last appearance feels so recent, but October was many unforgettable yet fleeting months ago. Her warming caress nurtured me into the new environment which came with studying abroad, but now unfortunately she circles back to wish me good luck on my next journey, leaving Greece and returning to the familiarly unfamiliar England. 

After months of wrapping up and feeling the painful pinch of the icy wind on my cheeks, Greece has now transformed into a new place: perhaps the summer destination tourists know and love. Behind the broken monotony of the hedge trimmer as it comes into contact with nature's blades, crickets whistle and cicadas hum to create a harmony, one which fades in and out of consciousness. The rustling leaves sparkle in the foreground of the blue sky, one which has only just begun to turn clear. Every once in a while, I am still reminded that I am in a transitional period between the seasons. My memory of the winter kicks in when the clouds crowd the sky once again and the heat of the sun is overwhelmed by shadow. A light outburst of rain suddenly transforms back into a bright summer's day. 

My navy university backpack has been through a lot, its eyes and ears holding snippets of past experiences. Caring for an umbrella and warm waterproof layers is no longer its duty, rather its material is stained by the salt of the sea's dampness, discharged from a worn bikini and a saturated towel. It attends bus and boat as well as car, travelling the long distances from summer holiday destination to summer holiday destination. Imminently it will retire to the depths of a studying student's wardrobe and will likely never see the sun again. 

New and old faces embark on these final trips with me, indulging in the fortune of Greek student life, most often taken for granted by those who tread our paths habitually. Figures from October return once again to defrost their winter memories. They are company which continues to grow in the summer heat as if never lost to the change of the academic seasons. Connections from home are re-established and my not-so-new life is put on display. It is a much welcomed but unfortunate reminder that the countdown to the end of the academic year has already begun. 

When the next October comes around, it will be yet a greater reminder of the end of a cycle of seasons. It will sadly no longer be a measure of Greek time but rather the start of a new life, or rather the continuation of the old. The adrenaline of beginning something new will be preserved by the nostalgia of my Erasmus year. As the seasons change, the distance between me and that first October becomes greater.