September is such an enchanting month. For some it’s the end of their beloved summer, to others, like me, it’s the birth of hope in our lives. Kids go to school meet new people and work with new teachers, learn new schedules, experience new things. Dorm rooms are set up just so, with the stern, “Now, try to keep it just like this…” and we shake our heads as we stifle our tears when we leave them behind, waving in the rearview mirror.
New crayons, backpacks, the smell of glue and blue lined paper on silver spirals. And there’s the football schedule, teacher institute days. Cute outfits from kindergarten and beyond, with sneakers that squeak on wooden gym floors. So much hope.
There are empty nests lined with years of feathers and fluffing, with our bare feet hanging over the side, and lazy weekend breakfasts, quiet suppers, long bike rides and open bedroom doors.
It’s meat roasting in a hot oven, and soups simmering on the stove filled with summer’s bounty.
September ushers in autumn where the light from the sun wanes but the leaves challenge it with bright yellows and oranges and reds and russets and offers a spectacular sunset of their own. And then the leaves return to Earth in its upcycle of nature to become the rich soil of spring sometime, somewhere out there, but first it’s the crunch and fragrance of those leaves and the walks that are filled with the sounds of autumn — the rustling of nut gathering squirrels, and paws and sneakered feet making their way along confetti river paths.
And soon there are the pumpkin farms and hay-rides, witches, goblins, golden faced jack-o-lanterns and tiny 5th Avenue bars, and mums with golden heads bobbing in the early morning. There are cool nights under soft, cottony blankets on the deck with friends, candle light all around, sipping hot apple cider with a bit of a kick, and memories turned into stories as many as the stars.
It’s a new beginning with so much joy that awaits us, and memories to make, with the dream of turkey dinner and a big boisterous family that come from all over to gather and give thanks for God’s riches bestowed upon us, even the hard stuff, like missing those who are gone.
And there are the plans for the Reason for the Season, and the songs and the trees and the wreaths and the paper and tape and ribbon, and sitting across from one another wrapping and smiling and then grumbling, and finally saying, “Let’s use bags!” that we fill with gifts and tissue, and then we kiss — job well done. And the roast beast and the wrapping crackling and laughter ringing and Christmas Eve jammies.
There is the pine scented, candle lit sanctuary, with little ones dressed as Mary and Joseph, and a cradle with baby Jesus and the story of the Baby born in Bethlehem. For. Us.
You see, the promise is there, no need to rush September– just breathe in the scents of autumn, and dream of the days to come, and know, soon after Father Winter will lay His quiet hand upon our land, and we will rest.