I’m going to miss September. October has just begun, but it’s getting dark earlier, so we have to scramble to get a walk in. Today, I missed that narrow window, so no walk for me. I found myself thinking about all the lovely walks I had in September.
This summer, we went on a number of hikes: for me, a hike is defined as a walk that does not originate from my house and that consists of at least two miles—preferably three and maybe more. Once September came, activities filled up the schedule, and our hikes petered out. Still, we’ve taken some delightful walks on September evenings. Even on days when the temperatures soared, things had usually cooled off by the time we left for a walk.
We walked in the neighborhood (above) and at the Botanical Gardens (below).
We tried a new walk at the Biltmore Estate,
but we also revisited some well-known haunts there.
The first couple of days after Irma, the Blue Ridge Parkway was closed, and my sons and I reveled in walking along the road; a lot of commuters use it, so it was wonderful to have it to ourselves, aside from a lone cyclist. The next day, the parkway had reopened, which dashed my plans for riding bikes. Instead, we decided to check out the damage Irma had wreaked on the Mountains-to-Sea Trail. Volunteers had already cleared the trail of fallen trees and limbs.
One night in September, my husband and I drove up to the Pisgah Inn for dinner. We took a walk along the ridge to the place where George Vanderbilt used to have a hunting lodge; unfortunately, we were facing east, so we just got the faintest part of the sunset.
This past Saturday night—the last day of September—we were traveling, so our walk took us around the beautiful campus of Indiana University. It was cool that evening, but, aside from a stray tree or two, the leaves hadn’t changed color.
No doubt I’ll get excited as the fall colors brighten up the parkway, but, at the moment, I’m sad about the end of sweet September. September is the swan song of summer.