I read a thinkpiece the other day about how September should spell the beginning of the New Year. January, after all, is brutally cold, permanently dark and profoundly lacking in the brightness that comes from Autumn leaves, fluttering down like amber confetti.
Personally, I have always felt renewed during these present months. Maybe that's because it's always signified the start of a new, fresh school year. Usually it's because by this time the Spring flings and Summer's fleeting friendships have quelled, the shorts have been shed, the dust has settled, and as we ease into the year's final quarter, goals have been triumphantly set.
October feels like Fall at it's finest. Wrapped up in a clunky scarf, the chill of a golden morning is refreshingly sweet.Wearing turtlenecks to the office, sipping a pumpkin spiced coffee, and curling up under a blanket on a cosy evening. Big, fluffy coats - the fleecier the better. The building blocks of certain companions solidifying from fun into something deeper. Taking more pride in your home, as you spend more time indoors. Darker nights, and streetlights burning, as coffee shop windows fog from the warm bodies within them. A rosy feeling that can temper reality, glossing it with a tinge of seasonal orange. A romanticisation of the months that lie ahead, the excitement for Christmas building, and thoughts of old friends reoccurring.
October, you feel like that passion-fuelled conversation with a kindred spirit. That exchange of words that gets you thinking, that inspires you, that ignites you from a playful sunshine slumber. You feel like the copper cusp of something we don't yet know, but something innately and greatly promising.