Covert Op.

In my opinion, September is by far the stealthiest of all the months. If I had to dress the months up for Hallowe'en, I would dress September as a Ninja.

Like an unsuspecting victim I lay my head on my pillow in August and when I wake up: Surprise! It's September.   Well laid plans for the summer are suddenly abandoned, unfinished, as I head back to school. Dreams of lazy days spent with my fishing rod, late breakfasts and listening to baseball are shattered by September's crushing realities. And once again I am blindsided by the fall.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the fall. I've mentioned before how much I appreciate the cool mornings and changing colours. I just feel that late fall and winter months are much more honest in what they are up to. When the first snow falls, when the first ice builds on puddles in the driveway and when the first morning arrives cold enough for me to see my breath, it's not a surprise. It's a logical transition. I will have been wearing a heavy sweater or a jacket for a week or two. I will already have my sandals packed away for more sensible shoes. I'll be prepared for frosted windows and icy toes.

September has no such scruples. No shortening days. No cool mornings. No warning of any sort. Like a cold splash of water, books are thrust into my hand and I will be herded out the door to school, frightened and confused.

But not this year. Oh no, this year will be different. This year I will get the drop on Ol' September. This year I'll catch September mid-slumber and shatter it's little dreamworld as it has done to me so many times. I will hold a vigil in front of my calendar for as long as it takes. I'll know it's fall before September does. This year it will be September who walks out the door with a fishing rod and tackle box in hand only to be greeted by the harsh sight of a school  bus at the end of its driveway.

If anyone needs me, I'll be out by the calendar.

Tot ziens.