Sunset on an empty subway

Summer is finally, blissfully, almost over. Frankly, I can’t wait to wrap myself up in layers of sweaters and scarves and blazers and walk all over this beautiful, disgusting city. Leaves will fall, spiced cider will flow, and the hot trash smell will be subdued, though never fully beaten. But not yet! There are still a few sweaty days to slog through until autumn reigns supreme.

I’ve been watching a lot of Werner Herzog films lately, and the dominant theme running through his work is pointing out the futile battle that humans fight against nature. You will get lost in the Amazon (Aguirre, the Wrath of God), you cannot push a steamship up a mountain (Fitzcarraldo), the bear will eat you (Grizzly Man), and no matter how much you want it to be temperate enough to wear wool stockings, it’s still eighty degrees (New York City, early September). Here’s to you, stubborn forerunner of fall fashion. There is absolutely nothing you can do to make the season arrive more quickly, but at least your eggplant stockings and leather brogues are nice to look at while we wait. You’ll just be waiting a little more sweatily than I am.

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