Introduction
There’s something about the temperature, the feel, and smell of September air, the winding down of summer, that hits me in a way that challenges my ability to put feelings into words. It’s like subtle shockwaves start flowing through my entire system, as if out of nowhere I’ve been plugged in; to what? I can’t be sure.
Accompanying the physical sensation, the cool September air evokes a nostalgia for a very marked time in my life, although I can’t put my finger on when. Just above the nostalgia lightly rests a tickling feeling that invigorates and inspires action.
Year after year since my late teens, this period of melancholic anticipation has been a mystery to me. What is it trying to communicate?
I can recall myself just shy of 20, dressed in a green corduroy jacket, a skinny scarf draped loosely around my neck, with a pair of wide-legged jeans, and oversized beige Adidas Samba sneakers (I’d bought them on sale). I carried a burnt orange vintage airline bag over my right shoulder, holding a white and silver discman spinning John Mayer’s Heavier Things album on repeat.
I’d go on these long walks and be swimming in this emotive energy, lungs filtering the crisp September air, broken Montreal sidewalks beneath my feet, the sun bathing my face in a delicious, contrasting warmth against the falling temperature, signalling shorter and colder days to come.
At year 35, this is it. September 2021 is the year I crack the code and figure out what life has been trying to signal to me all this time. I’m a believer in parallel dimensions and the portals that weave between them. Where do you reckon cracking this one open will lead??
