Admittedly I lead a boring life. I like it that way. Small pleasures shared with a few chosen people beat the chaotic frenzy of the Woodstock Music Festival shared with thousands of strangers, which in my youth seemed exciting, albeit wet and muddy. For me now, turning over the calendar page to the first day of September is quite possibly the most exciting thing I do all year.
Taken on its own merits, September is nothing special: still hot and muggy, with little to celebrate except the gradual lessening of mosquitos and bees in certain parts of the country, notably mine. The month slogs along until the 22nd, when it finally delivers on the promise of cooler days and even some downright cold nights with the arrival of autumn, nature's true party season.
Sadly, it all goes by in the blink of an eye and suddenly it's winter and you're shoveling snow and losing power in ice storms and disappointed that once again, Christmas was so un-Christmasy. So pay attention to every golden moment before it's just a fading glow in the rear-view mirror.
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