Good Riddance to August

My coworker Janet hates August. This year I'm in agreement. August is poisonous. Family camps burn down. Beloved neighbors pass away. Customers are a particularly special breed of crazy. "When I die," Janet told me today, "I'm positive it'll be in August." (Out of concern for her life I took issue with the fact that she told me this in August, but seeing as how we're only a day shy of September and Janet is 75 going on about 50, I don't think I have too much to worry about.)

I'm choosing to cap off the month--and an especially unpleasant week--with some pictures that remind me how therapeutic it can be to simply open my eyes and breathe.