We drop Reed off at school, and then we keep walking. A month ago, we might take the shady side of the street, but not anymore. The warm sun won’t last long. We take all we can get.
September is the most beautiful month. The food is the best, and the clothes, and you don’t have to mow the lawn much or worry over seedlings or shoveling snow. The cool air makes you hungry, and I love being hungry.
September is the most beautiful month, but as much as I like it, I also don’t at all. It is like a beautiful, interesting person whose company- for some, unknown reason- you can’t stand.
Ah, well. I don’t feel at home in September, but I am still glad it’s here. I’m glad to live in the world and watch the months come in and out and eat apples and brussel sprouts and walk on the sunny side of the street. I am glad the sun is still warm and I can keep walking and walking and point to the bits of yellow on the trees and say, Look, Helen! It’s autumn!.