September Love

I adore September.  For me, it always feels like a fresh start and a new beginning. School, college, resolutions, new projects. My chalk boards will have lots of lists on them.

 I am going to learn how to crochet.

September is also a time for wanting to start winding down: clearing up the garden, putting all the summer toys into the shed and chopping and clearing over enthusiastic plants, though not too much as the creatures like it.

I wonder how many more weeks I can put washing out on the line as the air increasingly feels damp. This year I am going to try to dry as much as possible in the airing cupboard so I don't have to use the dreaded dryer!

Each Thursday I have decided to find a few appropriate verses from poems or songs. Seasonal poems remind me of being at primary school, learning such rhymes, writing them up and finally decorating with a picture border. I'm not a poetry expert, far from it but each night before Little Bird's bedtime story we read a short poem. Sometimes they are funny or sad and we always end up having a short discussion about it afterwards. 

September by Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)

The golden rod is yellow;

The corn is turning brown;

The trees in apple orchards

With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes

Are curling in the sun;

In dusty pods the milkwees

It's hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest,

In every meadow nook;

And asters by the brook-side

Make asters in the brook.

From dewy lanes at morning

The grapes' sweet odors rise;

At noon the roads all flutter

With yellow butterflies

By all these lovely tokens

September days are here,

With summer's best of weather,

And autumn's best of cheer.

But none of all this beauty

Which floods the earth and air

Is unto me the secret

Which makes September fair.

'T is a thing which I remember;

To name it thrills me yet:

One day of one September

I never can forget.

Happy September x