As far back as I can remember, the butterflies in my stomach would make themselves known to me without fail as the school holidays drew to a close. Even during my university years, they’d make a brief appearance at the beginning of each semester. As a kid, I would always associate Australia Day with the end of the summer holidays as the start of term was generally a few days after. A day of celebration before returning to 10 weeks of education.
These days the end of summer means something different to me. As I’m not too fond of the excessive heat and humidity (and flies and mosquitoes) that summer blesses us with, I welcome the cooler weather. I enjoy the look of a wintry Sydney, its inhabitants walking around in their elegant coats and scarves, a cool breeze blowing in from the water.
The end of summer is no longer associated with going back to school for me as my holidays are dispersed throughout the seasons. Living in the Southern Hemisphere, summer begins in December and goes through to February, so the end of summer also means that we are into the third month of the year, which is always a bit confronting (where has the year gone? etc).
Living in the Southern Hemisphere, this also means that I am 6 months away from this feeling. Right now we are in the last days of a tumultuous winter, with some extremely cold days, a few summer-esque days and lately a lot of rain. I am also at the end of a 5ish day weekend (I worked one shift in the middle of five days off) and although there are no butterflies regarding my return to work, I wish I had another five days to myself.