It has started. I love it. Whatever else my life may have at the time, I love the signs and portents. The light changes in a way I can not describe, but I know it when I see it, as if it has a slant to it, a tint, a modest hue. The cicadas sing. There is a difference, even when the temperature tells you otherwise. The differences herald the beginning of the school season, the time when students sweat in lines for the classes and the p.e. practices and the football season begins. And this, my friends, precede the date that should be a national holiday known as "My Birthday."
How odd that the beginning of school should always, always, remind me of my birthday. Primary color balloons, yellow cakes, presents. It is a day of great magic to me. Still is.
September cometh. You got plenty of time to buy gifts!
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