May feels like a beginning. The birds, the budding, the bicycles to
and fro-ing. It seems like summer is luxuriously stretched out before
us—ripe for the taking.
Internally it feels more like September is the true beginning; with
the pencils lining up, waiting to be sharpened and the blank tablet
pages yet to be marked upon. But maybe this is my body’s way of
starting over, resetting that internal clock. Perhaps everyday is
truly a fresh start.
October is in a sense bittersweet; endings and beginnings entwined and
enmeshed. Summer has gasped its last breath and Fall has announced its
arrival. Winter is lurking around the corner, ready to jump out at any
moment to regale us with frigid, frosty glory.
Here in Vermont, snow is a constant, underlying presence. We have had
snow in the traditional months, of course. (Though not always.) Yet I
have gone for walks on my birthday (in May) and seen the remains of
drifts refusing to melt. We have had many Halloweens with snowflakes
swirling down from the sky. It always seems way too early to be
bundling against the elements at that point in the year. How can you
wear a fairy costume over a snowsuit? If you are creative, there are
In my mind October harkens to a tradition of harvesting from the
garden and pumpkin carving. A time to start winding down and a chance
to dress up. An opportunity to be who you want to be, if only for one
wild night. Candy filling and cider flowing. A whistling wind and the
sound of howling laughter. Merriment, mirth and joy—enough for all.
If only there were other excuses to dress up and try someone else on for size.
Already there are plans being made in my house. Suits and ties being
procured, hats and ties being unearthed. An extra layer calculated in,
just in case the weather turns cold this Halloween. But for now they
are far off dreams. Now we sleep with windows open and the cool
breezes kissing us goodnight.