FreshSeptember is my favorite month of the year, and this one has arrived after weeks of hot, sultry, humid August breathing down my neck. Oh, I know we probably will have a week or two more of warm weather before the days are as cool as the nights again, but September has arrived and I am deliriously giddy about it. My spirits have picked up with the chilly mornings of the last several days - right after the storm, in fact.
The crickets now rival the birds and the last of the cicadas with their incessant song, which I also await every year. The tiny songsters invade my basement beginning around the 20th of August until the first hard frost in October. They are the Gryllus pennsylvanicus, field crickets, and they come in from the chill evenings for a bit of warmth, camaraderie and song before their little hearts give out and they die...or they become live food for the multitude of spiders which await their arrival almost as much as I do, but with sinister reasons.
I visited Whiskey River blog this afternoon and found a poem by American poet W. S. Merwin, a poet unknown to me. His poem is "To the Light of September," a love poem if ever there was one. In reading more about him, I found a video of him talking about poetry, which some of you might enjoy viewing.
Ever since I was a young girl, I have loved the painting, "September Morn," by French artist Paul Chabas. While reading Merwin's poem, I thought of the painting, which is why poem and painting are in this post. (Is that too much alliteration in one sentence?)
While there is still light out, I'm going to take a walk around the neighborhood, to enjoy the changed light and the delicious chill in the air. Maybe I'll get lucky and find another Viceroy butterfly on its way south.
(c) 2009 Martha McLemore
20 comments:
Wonderful painting. Maybe a bit chilly but . . .
I don't know what change September may bring you guys over there regarding the weather..but i remember when I was in Germany 9 years ago in this month, it had started to be wet and colder..fall was on the way..and I brought only clothes with thin material..! I love this painting..and wow you know so much about those tiny singers out there..I listen to birds' chirping but have no idea who they are.
(o)
With September I think you get the best of both worlds. THe last of the summer warmth with some cool autumnal breaths thrown in. It is a calm time.
I blogged along the lines of being in the autumn of my life.
Should have said, 'being in the September of my life'
Had a look at Merwin's poem; enjoyed its simplicity; admired and envied its unstructured structure (Couldn't do that - I need the tight corset-like confines of something as well-defined as a speeding ticket). Liked "mullein" and, following a visit to the dictionary, could see why that was preferred to "species of plants of the figwort family". Reflected on the fact you don't need much on which to base a poem - a point of view is enough. Good choice, Crow.
Finally, scrolling down, a wonderfully characteristic, quasi-sarcastic pourboire from old Vladimir, although I know he's not favourite author.
I spent some time dwelling on the life-cycle of the cicada, delicately limned (Gosh, haven't used that one in a decade. Archaic or literary, says the dictionary. Yup, that's me.) in by you. It is of course a fit subject for a poem and I started out pondering a recommendation. But I junked it. It's an excellent bit of prose and probably couldn't be improved by fitting into the aforesaid corsets.
The painting is gorgeous.
I share in your enthusiasm for fall. I'm not quiet sure what it is about fall but it speaks perfection to my soul.
Just tonight on a walk I stopped over our town's river and contemplated jumping in in the buff. It was so calm. Cool now though, I reasoned, and a car horn blasted at me. And too many on lookers. Maybe next summer...
The grass grows greener in the autumn and returns the gift of light it drank all summer. Soon we'll be able to kick through the golden leaves that have begun drifting down from the trees.
Cat: Yep, would be a bit chilly for me, too.
:)
HLiza: Usually, September starts of warm days and chilly nights, with rains beginning about the middle of the month. However, we've had years when it was hotter than the hinges of ...well, it was hot, and it took almost the whole month for cooler weather to arrive.
Despite the unpredictability of September weather, I love this month for the changes it brings, especially to the color of the light.
:)
Zhoen: Hello, friend.
:)
John/AWB: I agree with you - September is the best of both worlds. Everything seems to be better.
I like the idea of being in the September of life, too.
:)
BB: I like the website on American poets, where I found the video of Merwin. It is opening many literary doors to me.
About Vlad - I haven't read enough of his work to form a reasoned opinion of him as a writer. I didn't, initially, appreciate the story of Lolita because of personal experiences, but later (after re-reading it when I was older), I saw that he wrote rather well. I also like that he had a passion for butterflies.
A poem about cicadas...hmmmm...that's a good thought. I will ponder it.
:)
WiaW: You summed my love of September beautifully when you wrote, "...it speaks perfection to my soul."
What river were you considering joining, there? I've daydreamed about following the Mississippi from its headwaters down to the Gulf of Mexico. So many trips, so little time.
:)
Susan: I have a time-worn, work-weary pair of sneakers I use when doing yard work. They'd be perfect for wading through piles of leaves. You've inspired the kid in me to come out for some leaf-kicking. All we need are those piles of golden leaves.
They're coming...they're coming.
:)
September here is still cold and wet, very wet indeed. We need the rain, but I am hankering after a little warmth now.
I like Whisky River too. Always something to 'open ones eyes'.
So many are writing about how they love the change in weather from Summer into Fall. The cooling. The chilling. I mentioned it too in my last post as have others.
To me, this is the real New Year. January first doesn't denote any changes except on a calendar, kinda like the political boundaries on a map, the state name changes, but the terrain is the same. Summer to Fall seems to come quickly. The change is "right now". These past few days in my neck of the woods have been fabulously perfect.
I'm going on yet another motorcycle ride and I think of you every time I ride as I know you'd like to be "in the wind" like they say. I'll dedicate this next ride of mine to you. I'll have all the gear as we might get cool in the Colorado Rockies. So, get your long johns on and hang on.
Peace.
herhimnbryn:
I hope you get a nice dry spell soon - not too long, not too hot, just right. (Sounds like that line belongs in a story about a girl and three bears...or something.)
Whiskey River is the portal through which I find all kinds of treasures. Like how you expressed it.
:)
Good morning, Joe/Spadoman:
I was tlking with my daughter last evening about this very phenomenon, about the overninght autmnal shift away from the sun. Seems we should be able to feel the shift in the earth's axial rotation, like a cosmic speed bump that slows us down, or something. Maybe we do, only it happens in the psyche instead of a jolt to the body.
I am honored to travel with you in spirit on your next journey, Joe. Thank you for carrying me in your pocket on your ride. I'll keep you and any companions who travel with you in my thoughts and prayers. God speed and ride free, friend.
:)
Isn't it wonderful? And I love that painting, though she looks a little shivery!
Hello, Lucy:
Couldn't agree with you more. I am so content at the moment, looking forward to the changing colors in the landscape and the nights when I need a blanket on the bed.
:)
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