Reflections Upon September
Reflections on the Rio Grande September is my favorite month. Always has been. Even in those dreaded days of my youth when it meant going back to school and all the teasing and not fitting in. September meant, more than any other month, new beginnings. In school it was new subjects, possibly new friends, definitely new books, and new clothes. I really love September. It smells wonderful. So fresh. And every day there will be oh, so subtle changes as vegetables ripen and foliage begins to turn, and flower petals fall and reveal seed cases of fascinating shapes. Fresh flowers I have left outside all summer long. Dried grasses and seed pods and dried flowers I will cut and bring inside to fill all manner of containers. And I will collect the seeds; the promise of a new spring. Fall reaches its culmination in October with the harvest but September is the beginning of the fall. Spring is the promise and September is the glory of that promise. And yet there is always this bi...