Today is the first day of October.
It's really hard not to be excited over
October. First of all, it has thirty-one
days, which, as many children know, is the correct number of days in a
month. It also signals the true start to
school - We've been working at getting ready, getting started, getting
organized, and getting students trained for a little over three weeks now;
October is when we really start to hit the ground at a running pace. October is also the heart of the fall sports
season, when games matter and standings become intricate movements amongst
brackets and fantasy teams.
October is the month when the temperatures
change. The nights are cool for
sleeping, and the days are still warm enough to hit the beach a few more times,
even if swimming in the ocean is out of the question because the water has
already returned to its pre-summer chill.
It tends to rain in October, at least early on, because we're still in
hurricane season here in the Northeast.
The storms take the same track that will eventually pan out to our
infamous Nor'easter snow storms, if we're lucky. (Who here wants a repeat of '78? Anyone?
Anyone at all?) Sure, last
October we were under ice and wet snow that knocked out power and Internet and
phones, and we all damn-near froze, but isn't that the excitement of it
all? Reminding us Mother Nature has a
sense of humor?
I remember one Halloween in New Hampshire
where there was plenty of snow on the ground.
I remember it in banks along the road as we walked down the long street
to trick-or-treat. Which brings me to
another great thing about October that is rapidly becoming a dying
tradition: Halloween. Halloween is the best holiday of all because
you can get dressed up, cause mayhem, scare the buhjeezus out of the entire neighborhood,
and people give you candy to accomplish this.
It's a wonderful thing, and if anyone gets extra Skybars this year, you
know where to send them (to me… to ME!)
The very best thing about October, though,
is the one thing that is a constant and yet the biggest wild card, depending on
the weather, and that is the changing colors of the leaves on the trees. Some years it's more of an "eh,"
and some years storms blow through, stripping the trees naked over night. Some years, though, there is no more
beautiful month than October. The
changeover starts north and rolls down like a sheet billowing in the wind,
first one rolling hill, then the next, then the next, until the final few days
of leaf peeping have settled into Connecticut.
October is when I feel sorry for everyone
else in the entire world. I know the
leaves change in other places, too, but there's something about New England,
with the salt air, the mountains, the abundance of sugar maples and the various
genera of birch, ash, and elm trees, that makes it like no other place on
earth. The anticipation of watching the
fabric of colors switch on, the beauty of watching it all change over, the
patchwork of autumn colors, make October a great month.
It's also the month we appreciate the most
because we know it will be a cold day in frozen hell, literally, until we see
live vegetation again that isn't a fir tree.
It's when we buckle down, settle in, and hibernate until the snow comes. Or spring.
Whichever wants to arrive first; we're ready.
