My least favorite month by far is February. Cold, snowy, dreary. I firmly believe that the creators of the Julian calendar hated it as much as I do. Why else would they have made it only 28 (or 29) days long?
Each year I look forward to the day I can open up the windows and leave my coat behind. I love May. But in June, the rising mercury isn't enough to pull me away from looking back.
I'm a little too sensitive when it comes to these things. After all, I'm not old enough to reminisce! But this year I got nostalgic for last year's high school reunion. (Then again, maybe that isn't so strange. I probably enjoyed the reunion more than I did all of high school.)
In any case, every June I dig out my rose-colored glasses. I graduated from high school 11 years ago this month. I met Paul 9 years ago this month. I graduated from college 7 years ago yesterday and started my first full-time job three days later.
I think about all of the friends I've made, so many of whom I've lost touch with.
Yes, good things happen in June (see above, meeting Paul), but I tend to think of this as a month of endings.