For the last day or so I've been looking at the number, 249, next to my name, here on HubPages. The 249 represents how many Hubs I've written; and although I don't often pay attention to such numbers it has been irking me that that I haven't just written one more Hub to make that nice, round, 250 Hubs. Then, also unlike, I actually started to think about how Number 250 should be about something a little more meaningful than, say, children's toys. So, I decided I'd make Number 250 about September (September in Massachusetts, to be more specific) and what this particular month means to me these days.

Anyone who has ever been in Massachusetts in September knows what an absolutely beautiful month it is. There's a line from the theme from "Camelot", "By order Summer lingers through September," and that line brings to mind the beautiful September days we so often get here, in New England. There's a difference, though, between mid-Summer days and the days in September, because even though the days are Summer-like in September night falls considerably earlier than it does in mid-June or July. Although Massachusetts weather is known for it's seemingly minute-by-minute changes; in general, even with Summer-like days, the nights in September are cool (and occasionally downright cold). Although in early September the trees are still green, rather than the bright oranges, reds, and yellows associated with the later Fall foliage display; hints of color changes do show up here and there.

As September approaches local markets and nurseries start to sell the Fall "hearty mums", and it's nice because shoppers often have to pass by rows of colorful mums to get into the store. People start to change the flowers and decorations in and around their homes from Summer to Autumn, and that, of course, is not lost on retailers. The pumpkins show up a little later than early September; and even those of us who tend to favor Spring and Summer enjoy seeing the colorful pumpkins everywhere. I got married in early September because the weather is so often so absolutely perfect.

Still, I'm one of those people for whom Spring is "my time of year". Although Fall brings lots of beautiful Fall colors everywhere, and although I love putting the mums and pumpkins on my front stairs, I'm just a "Spring person". I'm convinced that if there were a prize for people who hate Winter I'd get that prize. So, when February rolls around I delude myself into thinking Spring is pretty much here. I was born in Spring. My favorite colors are Spring colors (with the exception of robin's-egg blue). I love to see the first robins, however, as they show up on lawns. Without listing all the things I love about Spring, suffice it to say I just may win the prize for "Loves Spring More Than Anybody Else Could Possibly Love Spring." So, of course, when September comes around, in spite of what a beautiful month it is, there's a very big part of me that so wishes it was March coming around instead.

In fact, each year I get a little depressed in September, for now reason other than anticipating "what's coming". Each year my enjoyment of the beautiful days of September (and October) is marred by this underlying "depression" (nothing clinical, as far as I know) in anticipation of the bigger depression that will be setting in when the grayest month of the year, November, comes in. I hate November (even though my son was born in November), so because September means November isn't all that far away, I start to get depressed. The only month that's as bad as November is January (my daughter was born in January, but I hate this month anyway). And, Christmas or no Christmas, December isn't exactly a big delight for me either. The only reason I can bear February is that it no longer gets dark by 4:30, the February sky tends to be bright blue, and March is never more than 28 days away (29 every four years, of course). To be really honest (and negative too), I essentially start to get miserable in September (even if I love being in it), and the "miserable-ness" only gets worse until it peaks in January and eventually leaves in April.

Every year I remind myself not to let myself get depressed in September over what isn't here yet, but every year I keep getting depressed anyway. THIS year, though, I will not allow myself to become depressed in September, because, apparently, I am finally old enough to get it through my previously "in-denial" head exactly how short life is. When did all this wisdom finally hit me? Oh, I guess a few days ago. Before then, I was pretty much getting ready for 8 months of being miserable about the weather. Over the last couple of years, though, I've been thinking about how I feel as if I'm in "the September of my life".

While I can't say I've completely adjusted to the shock of having passed my fiftieth birthday; since I did, I realized that - without any question about it - I've passed "the Summer of my life". I still feel as if I'm in "the Summer of my life"; but, as is the case with September's Summer-feeling days, there's no doubt about it that there are signs of the late Autumn and Winter that aren't all that far away. I've been pretty fortunate when I comes to my hair color. That's still it's original light brown. Like those very early hints of Fall color, though, there are a few thin strands of gray showing up. They aren't much; but just as there aren't even a few Fall-colored leaves in Spring and Summer, even these minor gray strands weren't there in my own Spring and Summer.

In general, I'm pretty much the same as I've always been as far as a lot of other signs of aging go. I have the same energy level as always and have been fortunate enough (knock on wood) not to have arthritis or anything like that. I'm happy to say I don't even have any crow's feet, but there's a "however" to that; and that "however" is that I do have those ever-dreaded fine lines underneath the otherwise crows-feet-less "eye area". (Apparently, in September some of us feel the need to analyze exactly where fine lines show up, and cling to whatever fraction of inch of "eye area" has been spared, at least for now.)   It's that "September thing" - I'm still so much the same me I was in my Summer, and yet there are those small things that are reminders that I'm in September, not April or not even August. (My other son's birthday is in August, by the way, and I like August OK.) The point is that for the first time in my life I'm not just staring September in the face. I'm in it. I don't know for sure how long I'll be in my September; but the way I figure it, I'll probably have several more years before hitting October. I'm not looking forward to October, though, because that's when the leaves REALLY change; and it's when (at least in Massachusetts) there's no more mistaking the days for Summer days. October can bring beautiful days, but they seldom resemble Summer.

"30 days has September...". September is a short month. I wish it were longer. I remind myself that the month is only a little shorter than those 31-day months, but when considering the beautiful Summer-like days of September, every day seems to matter. These days, more than ever, it seems so important to remind myself that I should not let myself get depressed about the Winter that, although still a ways off, will arrive sooner than I'd hope. Although I talk about being depressed each Winter, the truth is that even though I'm not all that thrilled with a lot of what Winter brings, I know it has its nice things. Late Fall and Winter are a time for family holidays and getting together. There is beauty in the sparkling snow, and when the sun makes the ice crystals on the bare tree branches sparkle there's often a magic that Summer can't be mimicked by any other season. Reluctantly, I'll "give Winter" its due. Still, September is such a wonderful month and has such beautiful days. I've discovered, in fact, that even with those very minor signs that Autumn is close, and Winter is closer than I'd like it to be; September both rivals and resembles May in so many ways. The difference, I guess, is that in May we get to know Summer is on the way. Most people look forward to Summer. In September we know that Autumn is just around the corner. Autumn, too, can be beautiful in its own way; but fewer of us look forward to seeing Winter reflected in glassy ponds or in the mirror.

I remind myself that Winter is still a long way off, that it does have its own beauty; and that it is often against the crisp snow when it seems we can see and understand the universe just by looking at the stars in the Winter night sky. I guess the trouble is, just as we never know whether any upcoming Winter will be a "bad one" or a "not-so-bad one", it's in September that I start to realize that next month I'll be wondering about what this Winter's weather will bring. I think most cold-climate dwellers are fine with a little cold weather and ordinary amounts of snowfall. What most people don't want is one of those Winter when every other day brings either a blizzard or an ice storm, and when normal routines are disrupted most of the time.

September - no matter how beautiful the weather - requires a little getting used to each year. April and May we welcome with great anticipation. June, July, and August we revel in. September would be the same as those months if it were for thinking about how quickly Summer passed, and how December is less than three months away.

This year I'm not going to let myself become depressed in September. No, I'm mature enough now to see how quickly the seasons pass and to finally get it through my head to realize that there is absolutely no point in getting depressed over something that isn't here yet, that is never really as bad as I imagine it to be before it does arrive; and that really does, in its own way, have its own kind of beauty. When we're in September it's easy to overlook the fact that Winter brings its own beauty.

Still, September is such a great month. September brings not only its Summer-like days, but the wisdom not to take any of them for granted. I know I can't stop the seasons from moving on; but if there's any way possible, I do hope that I can linger in September as long as possible. Yes, I do hope I can linger in September.