September now!

She says chomping on a Honeycrisp apple. Which is not even my favorite type of apple, despite it's popularity. That honor belongs to the Spencer apple, but it arrives fashionably late.

Anyhow, I didn't sit down to write about apples but instead about September. And how much I love it. It's my antidote to June, which like those Honeycrisp apples tends to get all the applause and swooning. September always invigorates me. Even when the days are still sticky and yet we're all supposed to have our noses firmly to the grindstone, September still delights, perhaps because it's charms are so brief and changing. The light turns gold. The unremitting green of summer is suddenly quickened by red leaves and saffron stalks. Plants pour forth their last flowers. The farmer's market is a magical place where tomatoes, corn, and apples coexist. Seemingly overnight birds suddenly change character, now flocking and eating with increased urgency.


And so I can't help but feel more alive. I even look forward to applying my nose to the grindstone, although that sentiment is more fleeting than September.