Listen to Virginia, Briefers. The woman knows what she’s talking about. September is, and always has been, my favorite month. We’ve crested over the peak of Summer, the dog days, the State Fairs, the dread over all the swimming and beaching and traveling that we didn’t get to do (as I talked about in this post).
When who arrives but grand old September, marching in like the leader of a Homecoming band. But instead of drum lines, Kings and Queens, and cheerleaders, September brings with her the glorious season of Autumn.
Our school year started last week (like so many other parents!) and we sent our middle son off to his first days of Kindergarten. The skies here have already gone grey and cool, so I feel catapulted quickly into a season of slowing down, softening, and like a leaf, curling into myself before letting go.
You never realize how fast you are actually moving during the summer until Fall arrives like a blustery wind forcing itself against your body.
My youngest child, Birdie (who inspired me to write this Substack) is the best napper that I’ve had the joy of knowing in motherhood… and on grey September days like these I wish I could join her for a true and proper afternoon nap. Maybe, someday soon, I will grant myself a moment of rest like that (and I hope you do too!)
For now, here are some lovely poems inspired by the arrival of September and of a new season that will inevitably bring with it so many unexpected challenges and comforts for us all.
And finally… I discovered the stunning and rather remarkable painting Death and Life by Gustav Klimt the other day and while you can read plenty of critical analysis online about its meaning, I was struck by how the figure of Death (a metaphorical mascot for Autumn and Winter) looks upon the soft, entangled, intimacy of Life on the other side of the canvas and… smiles as if deeply touched by its beauty. A newborn and his mother, a strong coupling of lovers, an elderly woman. All of it gives Death a pause just as we can be spectators in Autumn, and view nature’s death with a sense of awe.
What are you looking forward to the most this Autumn? I’d love to hear from you.
Aaaaand… somehow the Bird is already awake! Until next time!