Friday, September 2, 2011

Dear September,

Hello September,
Welcome mellow mornings and a return to routine. Here's to the school buses rumbling by at dawn with tender sleepy faces peering out. To the zeitgist of high school football, Tigers roaming The Domain again, a ceremonial sip from the Old Well to get good grades. To cinnamon-dusted doughnuts and long evening walks, a jumbled recipe file, getting reacquainted with the kitchen.

There's a hint of color in the North Carolina mountains and a mist hangs over SkyTop Orchard where they ladle melted caramel over tart apples, cored and fanned out like a chrysanthemum in a bowl. September pays homage to the cerebral and the curious, to those who sit in the front row and take notes that look like art, who dream of reading every book in the library and maybe writing one, too. It's a plaid lunchbox and an old wooden desk waxed until it shines, a Carl Sandburg poem, a James Taylor song. September is worth waiting for all year long.

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