Things We Forget

June is my favorite because everything feels bright, even on cloudy days.

October is my favorite because it’s dramatic in the most beautiful way.

November feels like gratitude I can feel in my bones.

February is my favorite because it feels like the beginning of hope, even if the world is still cold.

After months of gray, the world decides to be brave and bloom anyway. The first brave crocuses push through half-frozen dirt like they’re flipping off winter, and suddenly you remember…

Long days, zero excuses needed to be outside until 10 p.m., the smell of charcoal and chlorine, music festivals, rooftop bars, spontaneous lake trips—July is pure, unfiltered life. My vitamin…

December, hands down. Yes, it’s chaotic. Yes, the mall parking lot becomes a post-apocalyptic war zone. But there’s something about dark evenings lit only by Christmas lights and the promise…

My favorite month has to be October. The air finally smells like woodsmoke and wet leaves, the light turns that perfect golden slant, and everything feels like the world is…

My favorite month of the year is July. There’s something satisfying about sweltering at a picnic in the summer heat.

Favorite month? Would have to be May. The birds are chirping and the air is fresh.