September summers in a river town

September summers are a special gift, especially in a river town.

You can see what’s coming in the first few turning leaves, and remember what was in the wilting black-eyed susans.

College students accidentally mill about your outdoor yoga class, but you don’t mind. Namaste here until the snow falls, you think, and maybe a few sessions after that.

You might see a red maple leaf land on a yellow zinnia and smile. This happy juxtaposition of seasons is so much more fleeting than a rose bloom, so you linger a little longer and take notice.

The river rolls forward and past, fresh and eternal, frothy and deep.

You walk along a path you’ve taken a hundred times, and have never seen before.

A sinking sun glows through green and changing leaves.

Two turkeys look up from a small field of Queen Ann’s Lace.

A pair of kayaks float by.

Maybe chaos awaits. Your to-do list might become a to-try.

But, for these sweet, stolen moments, you look up at the warm, September sky and smile.