September 26th

September 26th

By Frederick J. Blahnik

 

September 26^th…..

That transitional, melancholy time of year which instinctively seems to inspire more regrets than aspirations…..

A bridge between late summer sultriness and the crackling crispness of true autumn…..

The sound of a large flock of loquacious blackbirds, clustered lazily high in the maple treetops…..

Only this time headed south instead of north…..

Seeking refuge from the vile arctic monster soon to come…..

Goldenrods blooming luxuriously in the roadside ditches…..

Late to the party, but quietly spectacular nonetheless…..

Soon to be ambushed and murdered en masse by a stealthy, early morning frost…..

An occasional monarch butterfly still fluttering by on the chill autumn breeze…..

So few now, where once there were millions if not billions…..

Just as my cluster of dashed hopes were, too, for the temperate season just passed…..

The sun shining brightly overhead …..

But shoved way down from the zenith and really not warming anything appreciably as it did a mere few months ago…..

Now only a golden orb bereft of most of its power and no longer a generous supporter of life…..

Did everything—did the world–look and sound anything like this in 1969—today—the day my father’s heart stopped beating and his soul thereupon abandoned his rapidly stiffening body?

I cannot even remember the salient details which attended my patriarch’s demise anymore, so long ago did that earthshaking event take place…..

A beautiful day, today, yet one cloistered in an infamy not of its own making…..

September 26th.