my careless contagion

September is changes. Small at first, then bigger. By the end of the month, we hardly recognize you, September.  She begins when it is still summer. When she leaves, it is autumn. This year, when she began, I was in one place. When she ends, I'll be in another. To some, this may seem like a small change, but for me, it is big. It's bigger than the change in the air or displays in the shops.  September means the beginning of autumn. This autumn will be different from the last several. I'll get lost in it. Swallowed up in it. The leaves will change later. The snow will fly later, too. Last September, we had snow the first week of the month. Here, I don't know when it will fall.  September is my birth month. In grade school, I was one of the earliest to celebrate my birthday. I recall the school principal would come and give me a birthday card and how that felt. Surely, this man was the busiest man in the world, yet he came to wish me a happy birthday. What a wonderful mom...

If I could liken autumn to a woman (Autumn, is, after all, a woman's name), she is the one who leaves (an unintentional pun). She is in the fading phase of a relationship. She's still there, but she is also gone. Her beauty is more achingly sweet because you know your time with her is short. I have my own memories of a time like that (and she was truly beautiful as she said goodbye). I savor those memories because they are the last time I had her, if a man can ever truly have a woman. Because a woman can change like the seasons. You think you know her, but you don't. All you will ever know is she changes, and sometimes without warning. One minute you're walking together, and the next she's gone. Just the memory remains, and you ask yourself who will drive your soul . The only answer is the breeze. The chill on the air reminds you winter is on the way, and autumn is the warning. Winter is a cruel, yet beautiful season. Those who heed autumn's warning will surv...