I started to write a piece about September:
September; the summer is over, the days are noticeably getting shorter, there is a definite autumnal chill in the air, not every day, but some days and especially in the mornings.
September; leaves are turning, falling; nature is shutting down some of its systems to ride-out the oncoming winter.
September; rainy day, windy day September. I love September in all its melancholic glory, maybe it’s the melancholiac in me, you know, that thing about identifying with sad songs, and doesn’t everyone like a little bit of melancholy?
And then I realised that I’d already written a similar piece last year, well, I say similar, it mentions September.
Then I forgot about it and now it’s very nearly November. The clocks have gone back (I really wish I’d kept-up the repayments), and it’s dark before I get out of work in the evening. It’s not that I’m afraid of the dark (brilliant song by Iron Maiden incidentally) but on work days, sitting in the office and seeing the daylight disappear, it does induce a sort of despondency, a little melancholy but not the melancholy I like. Who knew that there was more than one type of melancholy?
But do you know what? I still like the mornings, when they are clear and bright, maybe with a little frost. It makes you feel alive on mornings like that, to feel the sun on your face and the cold tingle on your skin.
But back to September, I’ve always liked the song, “September Song”, the Kurt Weill / Maxwell Anderson song as recorded by Frank Sinatra (amongst others). It’s a sort of bitter/sweet lament for the passing of the years. It’s melancholy but it’s melancholy I like. OK, that’s six uses of melancholy so far, (seven now, not to mention melancholic and melancholiac) so I’ll stop using it.
So here we are on the cusp of November, short days, long nights, cold weather… Aw, bring it on. If truth be told, I love the winter too.
Oh, it’s a long, long while from May to December…