August … Die She Must

A comment I made on another blog earlier today got my small brain working.  September has arrived. And soon, Autumn. I capitalize it, because Autumn is very prevalent in my mind.

September always adds a subtle seasonal shade to the calendar. It can be a new beginning.  In many places, schools restart after the summer break, new programs recommence everywhere.  But it’s not a hard date like January 1st. Nor does it suggest rebirth and youth like Spring connotes. Autumn’s initial gentle focus is very different.

Here in the northern climes it reminds us that the seasons do change. Time and life move on. And there is an ending. Perhaps yes, on the distant horizon, but there, nonetheless. And if you do not move as well, you will be left behind. September is a gentle prodding with its chilly evenings, that becomes more intense as we move into Indian Summer, then into October. It is a reminder that the warm halcyon days of summer have moved on, and so must we. Latter September is, of course, halfway between the June and December solstices, the autumn equinox, and prime harvest time. When things need to be accomplished.

For the ultimate procrastinator such as yours truly Autumn is the final warning to stop the squander of that most precious of commodities, time.

Pardon me won’t you, while I finally get my ass in gear? I hate being left behind.

 Hard too believe, but this concert took place 35 years ago this month



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