The Weight of Leaving

There is a specific ache in the finality of a season. We build our warmth against the glass, watching the light retreat, knowing the structures we have leaned upon are already being dismantled. It is not the darkness that frightens us, but the sudden absence of the glow we had grown accustomed to. We hold onto the residue of a celebration long after the guests have departed, tracing the outlines of what used to be. To witness the end of a thing is to understand that nothing is meant to stay. We are merely passing through the spaces we have illuminated, leaving behind only the cold air and the memory of a flicker. When the last wire is coiled and the last bulb goes dark, what remains of the heat we felt? Is it enough to carry the shadow of it into the long, quiet months ahead?

Rohit Acharya has captured this fleeting transition in his image titled January Sky. It reminds me that even the brightest moments are only borrowed from the night. Do you find comfort in the way the light begins to fade?