The real new year for me starts in September. I am not alone in this – whether a hold over from so many years of school, or just the change of season this time of year, many of us see September and not January as the month for new starts and open possibilities.
Even before my children were in school, I liked September, and found myself out buying new notebooks and pens to herald in the fall season. September is a month of getting organized, of sharpened pencils and the smell of new leather shoes. A month to think about trading in the summer uniform of crop pants, t-shirts and sandals for something crisp and elegant. I always get my hair cut in September: it is the perfect time to go trade in summer’s casual ponytails for something with a little more style.
Now I have three school aged children, there is a real purpose to September. A transition that is both good and bad. Good because the kids thrive on routine. Bad because – well, let’s face it, summer is a good time.
Seasons change, and while I don’t mind winter, like spring, and enjoy summer, I love and have always loved fall in the northern hemisphere. The leaves. Wearing gaily-patterned knits. Tidying up the gardens after the harvest. The smell of hay being put away.
We change our eating habits in the fall too. Goodbye for now to everyday barbecue and salads. Hello heartier fare. Nothing says fall to me more than an afternoon walk on a cool bright afternoon, and coming home to a simmering bowl of fresh broccoli and cheddar soup with crusty rolls warm from the oven.
So as September approaches, we are buying our books and pencils, our new corduroys and sweaters. We are planning ahead – what badges does the oldest want to work towards in cubs? Do the girls want to take dancing or not? What new things are on the horizon that we want to try? September is a new start.
And anything seems possible.