Now, is July really over? I know it’s a time-honored cliché to remark that the years fly by faster and faster as you grow older, but this summer has been exceptionally short, hasn’t it?

My temporal confusion aside, the annual convention that we are about to embark on — specific to those of us who live in colder climates — has always been unavoidable. It’s time to get ready for autumn.

For some that means going to bed at 1 a.m. instead of 3 a.m. For others it means no more biking to work. For me it means preparing for the drudgery of homework and wearing jeans.

Contrary to the Garrison Keillor hallmark that Minnesotans crave winter so they no longer have to be seen in shorts, putting away our swim trunks and bikinis can be a sad occasion. While saying goodbye to the mosquitoes is enough to elicit cheers of joy, saying goodbye to the lake turns out to be pretty difficult.

Maybe my nostalgic equilibrium is just a tick higher than most, but this inevitable transition gets me emotional every year.

It’s the thought of the last bonfire or the last night swim. There’s a beautiful poetry in the hobbies of summer, and while I am a lover of winter, that same beauty just isn’t as present.

I know this is a premature reaction. Fall is my favorite season, warm enough to still take part in the best of summer activities, but cool enough to warrant a steady influx of soup. And who doesn’t love soup?

August, September and October are the three most beautiful months to be a Minnesotan. There’s nothing quite like that orange bloom of autumn.

But that gorgeous canopy brings midterms with it and is followed by cold, gray winter.

It doesn’t feel like it should affect me now that I’ve gone through 22 of them, but I seem to always find myself searching for whatever the opposite of a rain dance is.

Regardless, wishing for the seasons to bend to my will is absurd, and winter is coming — sorry, I had to. The best we can do is have a good autumn.