September is my favorite month of the year. The weather, the low humidity, the beginning of fall, the freshness. The light is finally diffuse. Summer is for summer people. Sure, I like it. At times I even love it. But summer people are the raging extroverts of the climate world. They are the too much at once, more sunshine is a good thing, more is more people.
I’m a fall person. I like a little bit of sadness in my happiness. I need some melancholy in my beauty, or it’s not as meaningful. If we don’t know the year is going to die soon, we can’t quite appreciate its absurd majesty before it’s over. Fall reminds of you that, as it astounds you with dusks, inspires you with energy of cool mornings, makes you want to cry and laugh at the same time.
I’ve always loved fall, perhaps criminally. In fact, any criminal behavior I may or may not have engaged in always happened in the fall. I always had a new haircut, a new romance, a new school year, a newly-remembered lust for life that grew in September, peaked in October and then declined into the hangover of winter. The would-be academic I once was thought there would always be a new school year, that I would be lucky enough to be in school, in some capacity, learning or teaching, for the rest of my life.
That ended up not happening. But then both my children were born in the fall, as if to somehow find out the answer to the question: Could I love the season more? And I can. I do. I love seeing Anna start new school years now. And there are always new haircuts.
I have a lot of autumnal plans. After we come back from a two-week trip to California, operation weaning Henry in several stages will begin. Sleeping has to be better for everyone. Races, work, ideas, family fun, it’s all on the agenda and it all starts, of course, in September. This is the second time I’ve written this post. The first time I wrote a practical-minded listing of goals and to-dos for this fall, and a detailed explanation of our upcoming trip and my sleep training plan. WordPress didn’t save it and so I guess that’s a post for different day. Because today was the first day of school.
I think I might have a lot to learn this year, another year to get older and find out how much I didn’t really know, after all. Another three seasons of stumbling and trying and at least doing something. One thing after another. Because that’s the only direction we know how to go. Forward, for better or worse. For older or older. Here we go.