a love letter to september
You’re one of my favorites. Not quite as magical as October, but certainly delightful in your own way.
Your morning chill creeps in quietly, trying desperately not to be noticed by all those Summer-lovers out there. As soon as the sun is fully apparent over that distant mountain across my valley, you dash away, not to be felt again until dusk. You think you can get away with it, that by the time October hits, no one will blame you for the end of the long, hot days. Too bad I’m an early riser and catch you doing your thing – don’t worry, I LOVE this about you.
There is nothing quite like your first rain. Most Oregonians pitch fits and traffic is worse than usual – how do they all forget that they chose to live here and rain is a [glorious] part of our lives? I don’t forget. The fresh, light, cool, and airy smells that follow are so tantalizing that I find myself gulping in deeper and deeper breaths of it, as though it will run out and I’ll be fated to return to breathing the thick air of August, making me feel swollen and hot and uncomfortable again. I wish it would rain every day of your month, but then again, there’s something desperately romantic about the pace at which you choose to unveil yourself – little by little … such a tease.
The trees’ leaves are juuuuust starting to turn, darling September. I will never comprehend how nature’s sign of imminent death is revealed by such rich, vibrant, and gorgeous hues. It’s captivating and is probably the single most nostalgic part of you. Just one glance at those leaves and my mind runs away with memories of freshly sharpened pencils … a cozy scarf around my neck … picking apples from the tree behind the garden. I can’t wait ’till they all float to the ground and crunch under my boots on the sidewalk.
I simply adore you, September. I am more excited to welcome October in just two short weeks, but I will thoroughly relish your presence while you remain.