This time of year many of us around New York are haunted by the weather. Not that it’s grey and spooky, or dreary with rain–just the opposite. The skies are usually clear and blue, with a little drift of white clouds. The trees have not yet begun to turn. There’s a quality the light has that is almost golden, especially early in the morning. The sunsets often are spectacular, purple and pink and orange, and the sky then darkens to dark blue velvet.
The days are very much like they were on September 11, 2001. Each year on these lovely September days, I remember a day very much like this, bright and crisp. I remember driving to work with my CD player going, so I didn’t hear the news on the radio. I walked into the office where I worked in New Jersey, and noticed it was nearly empty. Everyone was in the cafeteria, watching TV and buzzing, trying to figure out what had happened to the first tower of the World Trade Center. Then the plane hit the second tower as we watched on TV. And clear blue skies would never be the same again.
So I still love these beautiful days in September. But in some ways I’m glad now that we are past the equinox and slipping into fall. October does not bring back the sad visions of those days when we lost thousands of people, and our innocence.
writinghersense 