Yet I love the cooler nights. I love the feel of dry air of a warm nature, playing upon my skin. Is there anything more comforting than the embrace of the air, or of a warm sea? September offers both and is a glorious month.
The leaves began dropping from our Sycamore tree last month; they go early. The Goldenrod is tall and in full bloom. The cucumber plants are dead and our apples are red; the harvest nearing completion. Paper or plastic pumpkins are in stores everywhere, far too early, they should wait until October and November. Many of us seem unduly anxious for the next of our experiences; I am content to wallow in warm September when the sun sets early for summer, but so much later than in winter. September is middle ground and for the non-academic, middle aged set, it no longer calls up tremors of "Back to School." The only worry I have is the local traffic, which doubles as shore folk return and buses rumble.
My son returned to school, by plane (and most of his stuff by FedEx Ground) for far less expense than I could have driven him. The trip would have been 30 hours there and back and for me, requires at least one hotel night, preferably two. September simplified. Warm dry air welcomed
My life is untied, leaving my toes to wiggle out of binding shoes into open air and my brain to wander, sans sun hat, with an open mind.
