Chapter 672 September — “New books, erasers, chalk, and such . . .”

Happy first day of September! (Okay — it may be September 2 by time I post this.) I often think of the beginning of a new school year as a sort of new year or new season. Such thoughts come from having been a student and then a teacher for so many years of my life. September always marks the start of fall and the start of all things new — new school supplies for Tom and Huck, new book fair season, and new recipes that don’t rely so much on the grill, which we use often during the summer months. Although the San Francisco Bay Area has rather gentle seasons the year ’round, I know that in other parts of the country it’s beginning to look like autumn. I like paying attention to the turning of each season.

For those of you living in the Eastern part of the United States who are, probably, not enjoying the September weather and who have suffered from Hurricane Irene and its aftermath, I hope that this Hurricane Season passes quickly for you and that your region is as resilient as I think it is. Californians are no strangers to earthquakes, floods, mudslides, and the like, so we are thinking of you during these difficult days.

And now for the annual September poem:

“The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze.”
– John Updike, September

See you in the stacks!

Leave a comment

Filed under Literary Influences, Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s