Sweet September, Not Too Long Ago

September, and I have memories of misty nights on top of a hill. How it seemed to be only yesterday, and how clearly I can still see it now. My mates and I had budding ambitions, growing urges and a convulating sense of togetherness. For a few nights we relished this escape from the routine and the usual. More than that, each of us could look out into the bright lights - and expanse - of our otherwise ordinary lives back there below the lookout point. Was that first week of September a momentary escapade, or an opportunity of a pause between what we were leaving behind - early adolescence - and what we had to build ourselves - future adulthood?

The bungalow offered lazy afternoons and group nights, where we could gather to offer our inner thoughts, make fun of each other and unknowlingly get to know each other better. The cooler air induced us into a kind of comfort zone that we longed for in contrast to where we first met - the humid heat of classrooms in regimented schedules. We dabbled in discovering and experiencing then forbidden areas - which with the benefit of hindsight now, were passing phases possibly necesary to our individual development. The fireplace, the foreboding darkness outside the colonial styled windows and the wavering of leafy branches threatened with moving fog - it all added to a certain comforting charm, a dramatic backdrop and a unique perspective to our apparent liberation to talk about anything, to do without constraint and to realise that things were not forever.

I recall the sight of the twinkling stars above the dark night sky, and how we were all decked out in sweaters seated on the patio looking out literally at the world waiting before us. What magical evenings they were. They then added to our resolve to build a unique life in each of us. They now offer a refuge to inspiring memory.