September is not really summer , but it's not really fall ether.It is both part and parcel of the space between the warmth of summer and the chill of winter. The days grow shorter, the night is cooler and longer, the mornings are usually missing birds songs. And for all of that i consider it to be a liminal space.
A liminal space, that threshold between here and there, before and now, now and later, outdoors and indoors, yes you get the idea. Think of how you feel when you step from the pasture, into the woods, or vice versa. A feeling of expectation, possibly trepidation. Curiosity, anticipation, perhaps you wonder if you should take that step. Is it magic you are feeling, as some would have you believe? I don't know. Is it being in a liminal space, again I don't know. Only you can know for sure.
The earliest memories I have of September. Hummm? After supper was over i would put on my beloved plaid wool jacket and walk from one end of the street we lived on to the other end several times. Both ends of the street ended in boardwalks which ended in a few steps leading to foot paths beyond. Paths used by the men and women who worked in the near by factories. I enjoyed those walks, the sunlight still warm on my face, while the wind whipped my cozy jacket around like I was a kite. I was tempted to put my arms out and see if the wind could really lift me off the ground, but not nearly as tempted as i was scared that it could. Never i did raise my arms, but i always wanted to.
I knew that the days would soon turn cold and snowy, my favorite jacket would not be warm enough, my sneakers would not keep away the cold winds, and it would be too dark to for a kiddo like me to be out walking. The green leaves that swished and fluttered in the wild wind would soon turn to beautiful reds, oranges, yellows and white. Acorns would litter the ground and foraging squirrels and chipmunks scampering thru the brownish oak leaves looking for those acorns made a frantic racket. The end of summer was indeed a sad occasion, being indoors was not for me.
After the leaves fell, it was time to think about Jack O Lanterns and Tricks or Treats. My little kid mind didn't really know if summer would always come back. But it always seemed to. That little kid who loved to watch the sky, and the birds, hugged the huge orange pumpkins that were kept in her bedroom, waiting to become Jack O Lanterns. Carefully watched the green tomatoes stashed in the attic nestled in their newspaper blankets turning red. She watched over the ripening orbs that would grace the Thanksgiving and Christmas tables. Still i am more than pretty sure that this was Mothers Natures way of reminding me that after the indignity of Winter, Spring would be back along with it's kin summer and Fall.
- 1.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold."I was in the liminal space between past and present"
- 2."that liminal period when a child is old enough to begin following basic rules but is still too young to do so consistently"
- 1.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold."I was in the liminal space between past and present"
- 2."that liminal period when a child is old enough to begin following basic rules but is still too young to do so consistently"
