September 1

I can't tell you the number of Bermtopians who are asking, "How can it be September 1 already?" They seem vaguely perplexed by this turn of events.

It's not a rhetorical question. Here in Bermtopia, I think it's safe to say many of us are simply stunned that summer proper ended last night. Schools have already started. Halloween inventory is popping up everwhere. Football and soccer practice are underway. Where did summer go? And who are these people who seem so intent on shoving it out the back door with an undeserved -- but well-placed -- kick in the patoot?

I think the rank and file of us handle the change of months quite well. We understand the concept of days, weeks, months and years. But September 1 pulls you up for a moment.

September 1 means the bona fide summer months of June, July and August are gone and unretrievable -- except in photos madly snapped at barbecues and family weddings.

Yes, yes, I know all about Indian summer (aka September and October), how beautiful it us, the gorgeous colors, apple picking at Greenbluff, football games at Albi, blah, blah, bloody blah. It's all somewhat romanticized. The reality is, I have to turn on lights around the house in the morning and I'm losing valuable daylight each night, the light I use for gardening and hitting golf balls. And most of the time now, I'm wearing a long-sleeve cotton shirt when I take Ben out for his morning walk. We all know what September 1 means.

Nevertheless, I am pulling up my seasonal big-girl pants and getting on with it. There are soup nights to plan, pumpkins to harvest, holidays to anticipate.

But -- we all know what September 1 means.