September

I've been so depressed lately I forgot to celebrate the anniversary of my first Beatles concert.

I'm not at my best this time of year. The cool breezes put me in mind of Januaries past. I'm uneasy and restless, perhaps from some genetic migratory urge, and Back to School sale ads fill me with dread beyond the usual trauma of actually going back to school.

My best winter memory is from when I lived in my former abode. I'd make bread from scratch, put the pans into the oven, then go out and split logs for the wood stove. When I came back in, warmed up and teeming with endorphins, the smell of baking bread was heaven.