Since then I've been wondering if these September days are my favorite days because of their beauty and the return of rhythm to our homes, or if I've been conditioned to love my birth month (as children tend to do).
With shy hesitation, September lands softly in demure shades of green,
burnt orange, and soothing yellows and blues.
I'm eager to start a fire, to wear sweaters and to drink (even more) tea. To curl up with a good book (right now I'm enjoying Not a Fan and All Creatures Great and Small) while the rain drums its soothing rhythm on the roof or while the slanted sunlight streams through the windows and the squirrels increase their activity (if that's even possible).
This morning we drove out toward the country for Aidan's flag football game. The vines and grasses, long and brown, entwine themselves charmingly around lichen covered split-rail fences. A hawk perches on a wire, peering patiently, expectantly into the field of grass. The rose hips dot the countryside with their festive oranges, and the cows keep munching and munching. It makes me come alive. And I wonder if it makes everyone else feel the same way.
Best I love September's yellow,
Morns of dew strung gossamer,
Thoughtful days without a stir,
Rooky clamours, brazen leaves,
Stubble dotted o'er with sheaves --
More than spring's bright uncontrol
Suit the autumn of my soul.
So I'm curious: Do you have a favorite month of the year? Does it happen to be your birth month?
Blessings to you, dear readers. Have a lovely, Septembery weekend. For my part, I will be celebrating my four-year-old niece and the first day of autumn!