September always brings me two parallel memories – adult and childhood.
I’m encouraged to see September arrive. It brings with it the harvest of the summer gardens, the radiant orange and gold colors, crisp mornings, and the scent of summer gone.
September also brings warm childhood memories, fleeting shadows from a past that are always beyond my reach. Somehow there is a strong relationship to the old comic strip, “Gasoline Alley”. In these comics I recall Grandpa – was his name Grandpa Zeke? – raking and burning the autumn leaves, a task that continued throughout September while he raked and chatted with passersby.
September brings about that feeling of well-being. But I’m not sure how does it relate to me?
Is it a reflection from my past, or is it the way I wished it had been?