Recently, two friends and I discussed the best parts about entering our 60s. Among the perks we identified: getting senior discounts and caring less what others think of us.
A few days ago, I identified something else: September.
September definitely gets better with each passing year.
Why We Wrote This
Pitch-perfect weather, crisp mornings, blue skies, and russet-tinged leaves. Those are just a few of the reasons we sing the praises of the harvest month, an enchanting season we cherish all the more because it’s fleeting.
Since my earliest memories, the prospect of September each year filled me with unease. I often started fretting about it in early August. To me, August was the equivalent of one long Sunday – as the day progressed, so did the pit in my stomach. This feeling escalated throughout the month until it reached its apex on Labor Day – the day before school started.
I didn’t hate school, but the transition between the languorous final days of August and the beginning of September was so abrupt. There was no easing into September. One day, I had little to do but wait for the ice cream truck. The next morning, the alarm goes off and the race begins: school supplies to buy, outfits to get ready, a new schedule, new teachers, and new classmates to adjust to, along with the revving up of social and extracurricular activities.
When I had my own children, I experienced this phenomenon again, multiplied because both played sports. September spelled a return to early mornings, forms to fill out, school clothes to buy, schedules to review, and homework to check, along with juggling work with my kids’ practices and games.
It was like going from a speed of 0 to 100 without pausing at 50. I sometimes felt as if, by the time I came up for air, we were already into October.
It wasn’t until my kids were out of school and I was in retirement mode that I began to notice, and then appreciate, what a spectacular month September is. Hands down, it is the most glorious of the 12 months. It often brings pitch-perfect weather, blue skies, a lovely nip in the air in the mornings and evenings that might require a light jacket, and a resumption of football games to watch on Sundays. If you’re fortunate enough to vacation in September, the beaches clear, the crowds dissipate, and the prices come down.
September’s chef’s kiss, for me, is the ponds. I am a swimmer, and, in September, many of the area’s freshwater ponds and lakes that are closed to nonresidents or nonmembers during the summer season reopen. The gatekeepers checking stickers at the entrance are gone, and the lifeguards disappear, along with the crowds, lap lanes, and rope demarcations.
What is left are gorgeous, serene vistas of sparkling, dappled water; clear blue skies; green trees with a smattering of red and orange along the shore; scattered swimmers like me; and, on a really good day, sun rays piercing through the water. I have experienced few delights equal to plunging into cool, clear waters on a warm day in late September and popping my head up to marvel at the view.
Of course, September is bittersweet. Darkness comes a little earlier each evening, and lingers a tad longer every morning. Sometimes the nip in the morning air is downright chilly. We know that, by season’s end, a few football games will be played in the snow. Before long, it will be Halloween, followed by the reversal of daylight saving time, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and then the long slog of January through April.
But even that knowledge can’t dilute the sweetness of some of September’s most enchanting days. In fact, I savor them more because I know they are fleeting.
That is another lesson I am learning: to relish what I have while I have it.
And for the next few weeks, I have September.
