Between Suns and Shadows

It’s always wild how fast summer moves.
We barely taste it and it’s gone. No matter how ready I think I am, it’s always too short.

This year I’m grateful I could stretch it a bit.
Being on a late vacation in Croatia feels like a quiet blessing.
I know it’s not for everyone—September, empty beaches, restaurants already closed.
But for me it’s perfect.
Darkness comes early now, around nineteen, and we’re in bed by twenty-two, listening to the sea breathe.

By the time September slips into its second half, everything here stops.
Last week the old city still smelled of coffee and warm pastries, people filled the narrow streets.
And suddenly it’s half-empty, the air cooler, the light sharper.
In just a few days autumn will be official.
And in a few more, another eclipse.

I arrived with the full-moon eclipse and will leave with the solar one.
Such a strong slice of the year—I can literally feel the shift in the air, in my own body.

I lost the thread of this piece yesterday when I was writing this because we were invited for a drink.
That almost never happens, so I said yes.
It felt good to be with people for a moment, even though I love the near-empty island.

That’s what I was writing about before—how amazing it is for me to simply relax where nothing happens and no one is around.
Another week and it’s like the people have dissolved into air.
The beaches are almost silent.
Some would call it boring.
But it’s exactly what I need:
not filling days just to avoid the void,
but being present with it.

FOMO, JOMO—that balance.
I know the urge to stay busy so you don’t go crazy, but this year for the first time in years I’m having real days off.
No work. No plans.
And it’s refreshing.

I walk on rocks and face my fears—
not a metaphor but real cliffs, narrow paths.
I dive into deep water, learning to hold my breath a little longer.
Finding balance.
Keeping a small routine even on vacation, so the stillness doesn’t turn to chaos.

In this silence new ideas float in.
I hope I’ll write about them later.
For now I just wanted to share this shift—
how quickly time moves,
how the sun still warms while the night already whispers cold.

I’m thankful for every moment I get here.
Especially this year.