The calendar has flipped to September, and it’s almost as though the weather knows we are into a new month. Gone are the extreme heat and humidity, and I am certainly happy to see these guests leave. With September’s arrival, we have had warm, dry days and crisp, cool nights. Why, it’s almost like Maine’s August of old, the month we all looked forward to and loved.
But, as I’m fond of saying, in Maine, with climate change, September is the new August—or Saugust, if you will. I guess it’s an ill wind that blows no good. Having an extra month of lovely warm weather is a real bonus for a state known for its long, cold winters that last through March. (In a previous post, I suggested trading March for an extra month of August. However, I’ve changed my mind—let’s have an extra September instead.)
In September, Winthrop sees the first wave of summer people leaving for parts south. The library is quiet, with few cars parked out front. At Norcross Point, where we leave the car to go on our bike rides, there are no boats being launched.
But, oh, the blue of the water and the sky, those puffy white clouds.
September, the month of stars—asters—and apples, where it’s still light enough to sit on the patio at night and have friends over for grilled bread and appetizers. We can wear t-shirts on our bike rides, and we don’t have to wear confining jackets, hats, or gloves.
October, with its chilly beauty, is right around the corner, but I won’t think about that. Instead, I will revel in September, my birth month, and all the good things that it brings.