Where I come from, August is hot, dry, and lazy. People go to the seaside. Or sit in the shadows and play chess. In the evenings, they have water melon with mastika, an anice scented alcohol, which has to be poured in a cold glass and has to be so cold, that it forms little crystals, white crystals floating in the albescent drink that turns transparent as it quickly gets warmer in the warm air. Time goes slowly by, time doesn't matter if it's hot, if it's August and everybody is in holiday.
But here the heat is declining. The sun still shines but in the way you know the summer had lost its stand. One could feel that nostalgic feeling of the ending summer.
So what do I make out of my August? I will suffer first, for my ending summer. I will then enjoy every last warm day as a gift. And I will get ready to start the new school and academic year. I will buy new color pencils for my son. I will bring the twins for the first time in their new daycare. In the weekend, I will go with the kids to collect blackberries.
And just like this, we will slip into the autumn.