We have entered into the month of September. Wow... already? I can clearly see back to the turn of the new year. Two moments in time, and I struggle to see what links them. It's like the time between them simply vanished, or never happened at all. My weary bones tell me it did though, that time did happen, and lots of it.
Perhaps what my soul is telling me is that there is a mismatch between what my January ambitions held in store for me, and where my September reality lives. In a way September is an announcement of the Fall season and of all the things left undone. It is the beginning of the end of the year, and I'm just not ready for this year to be over yet.
The months of Spring are hopeful, counting down the days until the summer sun greets us with it's warmth and promises of adventure. Here in the northern part of the Union the sun stays with us longer, providing hours more of daylight than I am used to from my youth. Its watchful eye opens early, like a child oblivious to the slumbering needs of the adults, and sets late, like a teenager discovering youth.
Now the days will continue to grow shorter and the nights colder. I lament the passing of summer, but I need it. Summer was a full but tiring time. Guests, projects, work, travel, exercise, outdoors, sunsets, and swimming. Much more than those also. I need a break. I need the late-rising and early-setting sun to tell me it's okay to stay indoors and rest. That watching a movie underneath a blanket on the couch with Liz is enough of an activity for the day. I need summer to let me out of her clutches.
Summer is amazing, but she's a demanding season, particularly when you're surrounded by the kind of outdoors we have here in Montana. She looks at you with puppy eyes asking why you're not floating the river today, or out on a hike, or camping near the lakes she's warmed for you, or grilling underneath the daylight she's stayed up so late to provide. She gives and expects much.
I'm full and tired.