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Ah, Labor Day, summer’s last gasp. Does anybody even read blogs on Labor Day, or is everyone still asleep or nursing their well-deserved, long-weekend hangovers? Seems like this was the fastest summer ever — but maybe that’s just because some cold air has moved into Chicago for the past few days, as it has a tendency to do for, like, 85% of the year.

In subjective terms, summers really do get shorter with every passing year. The longer you’ve been alive, the shorter every summer is in a relative sense. Those precious three months will continue to make up a smaller and smaller percentage of your total lifetime as you get older. Those summers from your youth, those endless, idyllic vacations from school, now bathed in the warm light of nostalgia, really did feel longer than they do now, considering the sum total of our life experience at the time. Just sit on that one for a while. And people wonder why I get depressed, shit.

Unfortunately, summer’s death does not come without collateral damage. Appreciating greenery just isn’t the same in the colder months, and I’m actually not even talking about weed for once. Cacti and succulents have a hard time living through a Chicago winter, which I can absolutely relate to. But it’s alright, since I have this cool hobby — it’s called buying plants and then watching them slowly die. It’s totally fulfilling and I really think it’s going to be the next big thing.

It wouldn’t be a Dedleg photography post without one of these making an appearance. Whatever, if I call sunsets a “theme” in my work, it’ll sound like a respectable pursuit, and not like I’m not just a shut-in who takes too many pictures out his window.

Upon further reflection though, I suppose maybe there is something to be said for my obsession with taking photos of sunsets, particularly in light (heh) of my discussion about summer’s passing. Perhaps I have some kind of morbid fixation, a fascination, with the moment just before the end. Or maybe I’m just not much for goodbyes.