Saturday, September 1, 2012

Whisper of a New Season

For the past week when I opened the front door to let the cats out for their morning romp,  I've been jolted by a hint of chill in the air. The heavy humidity that dogged us for the better part of summer has whisked away. Once again I am reminded that my favorite season is coming to an end.

It reminds me of when Carrie Bradshaw of Sex And The City looked up to the New York City sky and watched a solitary leaf fall down to her feet. Autumn is about to arrive. September has always been a bittersweet month for me. Perhaps because it holds so many memorable dates. On September 3, 1983 I got married. On September 11, 1995 I got divorced. I remember the tragedy of September 11, 2001 as if it were yesterday. I will never forget standing on my balcony with binoculars staring at a seamless blue sky with two burning towers interrupting the horizon. Suddenly, before my very eyes, they collapsed in a cloud of smoke. Just like that, they were gone from view.

Then there was September 2009 when my ex-boyfriend Joe moved out, marking a protracted break-up that lasted another two years. That September was the beginning of the end.

I think this sad feeling goes way back to my childhood when I knew my lazy days on Medicine Lake, swimming, water skiing and fishing would have to end because of school. Summer always has this laid-back vacation feeling. But once September kicks-in, there is this sense that everyone has to roll-up their sleeves and get back to work.

My mom points out that since I love spring and summer so much I should move to Florida. But in that state, summer is not the same. I've done three summers in Florida. It's horrible. I prefer to enjoy summer in all its glory--right here. All I want is one more month of summer. Sometimes the weather is kind and does grace us with an "Indian" summer. But as I sit on my balcony drinking coffee in a hooded sweatshirt listening to a crisp breeze rustling the trees, I'm not too hopeful.

So goodbye summer. I'll see you next year.

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