When I was younger I hated the month of September, mostly because the impending start of school ruined the last half of August. And September, of course, meant not only back to school but the end of summer. Oh sure, you could even in the northern climes of New England find summer, but the heat never lasted more than a day or two, and you knew they were the last vestiges, for sure. In some ways it was OK – the cloudy muggy days of August that made everything around you feel damp and cause doors and windows to never close the right way giving way to the clear, bright, and less humid days of September.

As I grew older and finally escaped school I began grew to appreciate September and the unique joys it brought. For one, the ocean waters up and around New Hampshire and Maine were at their warmest (and least crowded) after Labor Day. And the nights were cool but not too cool that you couldn’t once again open up all the windows of the house and let the fresh air in. But even given this, you couldn’t take away from the fact it all seemed bittersweet. Because you knew damned well the days were growing ever shorter and what lay beyond the no-longer-so-distant horizon.

There’s this scene in The Great Gatsby where Gatsby is lamenting the end of summer, telling Nick how he wished he could bottle it and save it forever. Me, I long for being in Newport, gazing at the harbor on a September late afternoon, a chilled glass of Pinot Grigio and a finished plate of clams in front of me, the angle of the sun seeming all wrong and slanted as the warmth of the day recedes into the ocean and a sweater or jacket is brought out for the first time since Spring. The stores have already got their Halloween decorations and offerings up, and with it you get the sense of the seasons beginning to change yet again, and just how precious life is. And you do want to bottle that feeling of time and place and keep it safe within you forever.

I guess that why I’ve always liked September Song; both Frank and Willie have their own way of expressing its sentiments.

Of course, here in the Valley of the Sun, all the feelings about September are moot – it’s just another hot hot month where by now everyone around here is sick of the heat and looking forward to the second week of October where the heat god flips the switch and ushers in that delightful time of year known as “Arizona winter”.