Are you glad to see September? I’ve already risen to give it a standing ovation.
After a summer of doing our own thing, we’re ready to sit up straight, pay attention and do our homework. Our worldview morphs from beach to businesslike. Surprising in a baggy-shorts person like me, not given to button-down impulses. That’s the magic of September.
I admit to a fall fetish. Air conditioning bills drop, and heating bills have not yet rocketed. Warm weather seems more a treat and less like a punishment. Nights cool down—better snuggling weather, when we can set ceiling fans on “breeze” instead of “tornado.” It’s not an accident the world’s longest kiss, 17 days and 10.5 hours, was recorded in September (1984), not June.
Inexplicably, huggy family events, such as reunions, take place during sweaty summers. Still, the completion of family reunion attendance requirements adds to September satisfaction. We’ve seen every relative who swings from our family tree, eaten our quota of fried chicken and Aunt Gertie’s potato salad, laughed at Uncle Izzy’s jokes and rescued numerous state parks from our cousin’s kids who play with matches. We had a good time.
And we won’t have to do it again until Christmas.
Sure, September gets crazy. But what do we expect from a month that gave us Confucius, Dr. Phil and Shamu the Killer Whale? A month in which we can wear flip-flops or boots? Sweaters or swimsuits? A month that celebrates “Be Late for Something Day” on the fifth and “Fight Procrastination Day” on the sixth?
Bottom line, September is all about changes, most of them good.
All part of the Great Designer’s celebration. In dressing September for the occasion, He spares no expense. Before long, He will clothe sumac in scarlet ribbons. He’ll gild trees with gold and embroider their leaves with russet threads.
He gives us lavish fields of goldenrod and chains of butterfly-brilliant morning glories that spiral up cornstalks and mailboxes. Cicada concerts still grace our nights, as the frosts have not yet arrived.
God gives us September, the best of summer, the best of fall.
Perhaps the very best of all.
We’re not the only ones applauding His artistry. “All the trees of the field will clap their hands” (Psalm 55:12).
Soon they’ll throw confetti, too.
What about you? Which season do you like best?