when harry met sally, autumn, love, fall, walking, leaves

That September Feeling

Feel the air sharpen? Feel the nights draw in? Feel the summer slipping away, away, away, away (that’s me trying to write an echo). That’s the September feeling. And – on this – you are either with me or against me.

Does summer mean freedom to you? Balmy days and lazy nights and sunlight and dot-to-dot holidays? Or does it mean exposure, isolation, melancholy and regret – all insinuated rather than deeply felt but nonetheless slightly hard-going?

August is a month of suspension. Nothing changes. And there are times when that is exactly what we crave; that feeling of being framed by our lives. A snapshot of our place in the universe. But what if change is a requirement of hope? What if summer is to be lightly endured as the new year looms?

This is the September Feeling. Part girding our loins to get things done and make sure that by next August, life will have a slightly different flavour; part poignancy about time passing (the most organised among us are making mental Christmas shopping lists) and part breathless excitement. That feeling that we can – minnow-like – dive back into the big pond. Casting a line to see what bites. Speculating. Grafting. Wrapping up and breathing deep and putting a foot down hard on the accelerator. Through the floor.

September is the time to set things in motion. To be a bit selfish. Summer is group-y. Go with the flow-y. September is agenda-setting. A tiny bit selfish. Pleasure and ache. But mostly sweet focus. Oh thank God it’s nearly here. Welcome back to the world people.

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