It’s August again, the month where humidity rests in the air. For the first half of the summer we did everything we could to keep the bugs out of the apartment; installing nets, keeping windows closed, discarding every scrap of food. Now, we live among them like one would do after surrendering to something so uncontrollable as nature. Violent July rain storms in Berlin leave August grey and cleansed. A squirrel keeps digging up the balcony flowers that my mom planted when she came to visit in May. I religiously spread ground coffee over the soil every few weeks to deter him away, and it worked until it didn’t. I watched him quietly creep back, burying his nuts beneath the flower roots to retrieve at a later time.

I gave up being mad and allowed myself to crack a smile at his boldness when he looked me straight in the face while stuffing his cheeks with chestnuts, standing in the strong and resilient flower beds. I know we both will enjoy them for a limited time, until the first frost comes. August brings gifts, always. Changes in perspective. Changes in seasons. Changes inside and outside. I love this month.