I can't believe how quickly the temperature is dropping. From one week to the next, suddenly the nights become cold and I have to close my window and cosy up beneath my newly purchased chitenge blanket. This week, the days have a hint of a nip. It's still hot enough to wear shorts and a tank, and the sun continues to fry me (not hard to do) to the point where I have to slather on SPF 60 sunscreen, but the breeze is cool, standing in the shade your sweat actually dries, and as soon as the sun begins to set I go sprinting for a sweatshirt.
Life goes on as normal here – we're still in the midst of coach trainings and retrainings, and right now I'm psyched to head to Zanzibar with my friends Alla, Steve, Aisha, Jamie and Jamie's friend from home. We fly out in two weeks and right now we're doing planning and research. Daydreams of pristine beaches and the apparently incredible mix of African, Indian and Middle Eastern cultures excites and titillates me (yes, I just used the word “titillate”).
This cooler weather is make me nostalgic for fall: thick sweaters, boots scarves, apple picking in the sun, back-to-school shopping and supplies, cherishing the last warm days, the breathtaking leaves of Vermont, the perpetual smell of smoke and fire, first cravings for warm hearty soup, looking forward to Sundays when you wake up too late, spend too much time in your pyjamas, go out for brunch with your girls, and then flip through the NY Times magazine. This upcoming autumn will be cherished like no other.
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