September, with its summery days, but foggy mornings and chilly nights, is a bittersweet month for me.
It always feels like both a fresh start—no doubt because of all my years as a student—and an obvious, undeniable end of a season. This year the contrast seems extra poignant.
I’m about to launch a new story into the world, plus I’m excited and gearing up for new writing projects, yet other things that have kept me busy the past few months are slowing down.
My flowerbeds appear to be at the height of their glory, but a closer look reveals the beginning of their end, softening stalks, a gentle wilting, the slightest touches of brown on the edges and undersides of leaves. . . . The balmy air carries a cool undertone, and if a breeze kicks up, it has bite. The forest and grassy areas around my home hold the lightest scent of earthy dampness and decay. The toads are on the move. . . .
I’m excitedly anticipating the birth of my second grandbaby, who’s due any day—and my own wonderful grandma just turned 87. She’s healthy, strong and incredibly sharp minded, and I suspect and hope she’ll be a centenarian—but can’t help thinking about new beginnings and autumn seasons, all the same.
I’m looking forward to cozy fall nights and preparing my garden, yard, and freezer for winter—but I’m heavily conscious of all the folks across BC, the province of Canada where I live, still in danger from, or suffering the results of, the terrible, ravishing fires that blazed out of control all summer and are still burning. Likewise, I’m sad and worried for all the people in the south, fleeing, losing everything—or being afraid that they might—in the extreme flooding and/or hurricanes that have hit (and are continuing to hit) so hard.
Jodie Esch, an author friend of mine, finished a recent blog post with this observation, “during these precarious situations in the world, isn’t it time to take a few moments out of each day, to focus on the idea of love?”
It absolutely is—and not just in this season, but in every season, those that are bitter, those that are sweet, and those that are both simultaneously.
I hope wherever this September finds you, you are safe—or on your way to safety—and surrounded by love from friends, family, or pets, with a roof over your head to shelter you, enough food to sustain you, enough clothes to keep you warm, and enough books to keep you comforted and/or entertained.