September has always been a special month for me. Growing up in Italy, it marked the end of the carefree days of summer and the start of something new – school. There was always a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, I was sad to say goodbye to the long, sun-soaked days, the outdoor play, and the sense of freedom that came with summer. But on the other hand, there was excitement too. The anticipation of seeing friends again, getting back into a routine, and the thrill of new school supplies – all those small details brought a sense of renewal.
In Varese, the town where I lived until we moved to England, August was a quiet month. The city would empty as people left for holidays, and by the end of the month, there was very little going on. But when September rolled around, the streets would fill up again, and life would slowly return to normal. The air would turn cooler, the first rains would come, and everything would feel fresh again. It wasn’t just about going back to school; it was a new season, a shift in the atmosphere. The city itself seemed to wake up with September.
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The working years: a shift in meaning
When I finished university and entered the working world, September took on a different meaning. Without the start of the school year to mark it, the month became more of a quiet transition between summer and autumn. Pietro and I would take our vacations in June when it was less crowded and more affordable, so September wasn’t even associated with the end of a holiday anymore.
It was simply a month that marked the change in season – a pause before the end of the year. It became more about small, personal routines, like putting away the summer clothes and preparing for the cooler weather. I didn’t feel the same kind of excitement for September during these years, but it still held a quiet significance. It was a reminder that time was moving forward and that another chapter of the year was unfolding.
A new beginning with Elisa
Then, everything changed again when Elisa was born. When she started preschool in Italy, September regained its sense of new beginnings. It was no longer just another month; it became tied to her experiences, and through her, I found myself feeling the excitement all over again. Watching her get ready for school, eager to see her friends and teachers, reminded me of my school days.
I found myself looking forward to September in a new way, seeing it as a month of fresh starts not just for her but for our family. It was a chance to reset, to embrace the structure that the school year brought. Suddenly, I was living through the rhythms of childhood again, but this time from the perspective of a mother.
Moving to the UK: a different September
When we moved to the UK, September took on a whole new meaning. The school year also started in September there, and this time Marco was old enough to join Elisa at school. Having both kids in school gave September a different kind of significance – it was a month of independence for them and me. I was able to carve out more time for myself, and I began to notice the month in a new way.
The transition in seasons was much more dramatic in the UK than it had been in Italy. September brought a noticeable drop in temperature, and the rains arrived early in the month, sometimes before summer had even fully said goodbye. The change was sharp, almost abrupt, but in a way, it made the arrival of autumn feel more distinct. The leaves began to turn, the days became noticeably shorter, and the cozy rituals of the season – warm drinks, layered clothes, evening walks in crisp air – became part of our daily life.
The shift from the vibrant, sunny summer to the muted, misty autumn in the UK felt more pronounced. I began to love this aspect of September, the tangible way it marked the passing of time. In Italy, the change was subtler – there, September lingered on the edge of summer, slowly fading into autumn. In the UK, it arrived all at once, bringing with it a sense of closure to summer and a definitive start to something new.
September in the UK became my month for renewal, more so than January ever was. It was a time for setting new intentions, reorganizing the house, and getting back into a productive rhythm. I often felt a surge of energy as the cooler air arrived, and I found myself making new plans, trying out new routines, and embracing the idea of fresh starts.
Arizona: a whole new world
Then came Arizona, and once again, September took on a completely different meaning. Here, school starts in mid-July, so by the time September arrives, the kids are already well into the academic year. The heat is still intense, with temperatures often soaring above 40°C (over 100°F), and there is no sign of autumn anywhere. The leaves don’t change, the air doesn’t cool, and September no longer signals the start of something new. It feels like an extension of summer, even though technically it is the beginning of autumn.
At first, I missed the sense of transition that September had always brought. Without the familiar rituals – the start of school, the cooling weather, the arrival of autumn – it felt like the month had lost its identity. But over time, I have come to accept and even embrace this new version of September. Arizona has its rhythms, its way of marking the passage of time. While it is different from what I grew up with, it is become part of our life now.
A time for reflection and adaptation
No matter where I have lived, September has always been a month of reflection. It is a time when I find myself looking back at the year so far, taking stock of what has passed, and preparing for the months ahead. Whether it is the cool rains of Varese, the sharp autumn air of England, or the endless summer heat of Arizona, September is always a time of transition.
It is funny how the same month can mean so many different things depending on where you are and what stage of life you are in. For me, it will always be a month that marks a change – sometimes big, sometimes small, but always significant.
Thanks for hanging out with me today!
Se you next time!
Valentina
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