Looking Up at the September Sky Before It’s Gone

The air feels different on my skin as it floats in the open front windows, the sun setting in the distance. The air felt different as I huffed and puffed up a 1.5 mile long hill this morning, though the sun still packs a wallop just before the noon hour. A soft breeze blew through the rows of parents in chairs on the soccer fields this evening; cool, fresh air washing over the sweaty heads of little soccer players.

September arrives, as always.

I sit and listen to the evening bugs, fewer now than even last week, and I desperately want to press pause or slow motion or something. The darkness descends so much faster already, the streets in our neighborhood dark by the time I finish up an evening run now. I feel rushed, feel pushed and pulled since school started three weeks ago. I want to stomp my feet in the still green grass — the grass that never got brown and scratchy due to a wet summer — and demand time to stop and breathe and close my eyes with my face to the September blue sky. I want a moment to savor this season of new, of fresh starts for the boys, of exciting opportunities for me.

But September, as always, seems in a hurry — quickly letting summer slip through her fingers and grasping hold of fall. I love fall, but I just want September to slow down, to let me breathe and enjoy the beauty that gets lost in the transition.


With my fingers moving rapidly over my phone, trying to make our family calendar work with a practice here and a game there and pictures at this time and that time and don’t forget this club and that activity and the paperwork that never ends, LittleBrother ran up to me as his soccer practice ended. He took a big, long gulp of cool water from his bottle, his head tilting back to look at the September sky.

“Look, Mommy! They’re racing!”

I craned my neck, looking up and shielding my eyes from the sun already starting to sink. Two planes, in all their Buzz Lightyear contrail glory, did appear to be racing directly toward the sun.

September Sky

I then peered at my youngest son, still chugging down some water as a droplet of sweat made its way down the side of his face. I smiled, thankful for the reminder that there’s still time, even amidst all the busy and crazy and soccer practice and games and getting to school on time and laundry and work and everything, to stop and look up and be amazed.


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