For myself September is the beginning of Autumn every slice of sunshine from today for the next nine months is a lottery to grasp at, with an effort to clutch at the retreating straw dog summer on it's way to bury what quivering shattered sunshine  bones are left, carried between the teeth to chant, dance, to bury  beneath the leaf mould until next year.
Quite why i build up each year the Manchester Basin Summer to curly leaf wood nymphs riding on the backs of saccharine turtles into sunsets of sweltering beast triffids is unknown, perhaps it is simply feeding the soul full of hope after the long dank undefined winters this tiny part of the world captures for itself in a requiem of retrorocket blues played under street lamps in the musical notes of  " if your going to San Francisco be sure to wear some flowers in your hair "...perhaps one day as i trundle down these last nine yards towards the dragon pit i might just make it to San Fran...
Last night i sat out amongst the flower pots with a few glasses of Australian white wine thought on this that of the summer months which has driven through my fingers as always with no regrets simply shrugs heavy sighs and promises for next year knowing that next years are dwindling fast.
So Goeth...Love and Peace to all whom pass this way have a good week ahead all..x