This past summer felt like an elaborate dance between sun and fog—one day bathed in golden light, the next shrouded in a hazy grey. It’s as if Mother Nature herself couldn’t decide what mood she was in. And I get it. This summer, this entire past year, has been a reflection of that very sentiment: a push and pull between hope and doubt, brightness and darkness.

I started the season with a sense of optimism, as bright as the sun on a cloudless day. But just as quickly as the sunlight broke through, the fog would roll in, obscuring the path ahead and making everything seem uncertain. One moment, I felt like I was on solid ground, only to find myself slipping into the murky unknown the next. It’s been a year of finding and losing my footing, over and over again.

There were days when the sun stayed just a little longer, and I thought maybe, just maybe, the fog was gone for good. But then, almost without warning, a cold front would sweep in, bringing with it that grey mist, clouding my vision and filling my heart with doubt. It was in those moments that I realized how much this summer—and this year—was testing my resilience, my ability to find the light even when surrounded by shadows.

Life, much like the weather, is fickle. We can’t control the storms or the sunny days; we can only choose how we navigate them. I’ve spent this summer trying to find the right footing, the right gaze—learning when to soak in the sun and when to find peace in the fog.

The sun and the fog have taught me that it’s okay not to have all the answers. It’s okay to feel lost sometimes. Because in between those moments of clarity and confusion, I’ve found a deeper understanding of myself. And perhaps that’s what this summer was really about—a journey through the light and the grey, towards a place where I can stand tall, no matter the weather.