Weather does not always conform to our seasonal expectations. Take today, September 1. In my mind it should be fresh and crisp, like the first page of a new notebook or the crunch of autumn leaves under brand-new, too-tight penny loafers.

Instead, we have the opposite: full-bore summer, humid and limp, a feeling not of fullness but exhaustion. The papers on my desk speak of back-to-school diligence, but my mind is wandering.

I’m fantasizing about a late season getaway. It won’t happen, but it appeals. A trip to the shore where bikes rule and gulls soar, the freedom and fun of it.

A blue jay squawks and my mind snaps to attention. It’s September 1, it will be 97 degrees today, and I have work to do.

(No autumn leaves here.)