But now, September and I get along just fine. Early September is pragmatic. It sweats but doesn't apologize. It has work to do. But, with the first cool day, the first morning that makes me regret not grabbing a jacket on my way out the door, I shiver with anticipation because Late September is a gateway drug. I look forward to it like an addict eyeing a needle as the calendar and temperature slide downward to the blessed release of Fall.
Soon I will reach for long sleeved shirts and an extra blanket. Soon I will open windows in the evening and wake up in a house that is 67 degrees. Soon, my breath will rattle with the leaves as cold air fills my lungs and makes me cough and feel alive.