For the Love of One Very Special Month
- L. Roy Aiken
- 3 days ago
- 2 min read
…because there honestly is nothing like it anywhere else on the calendar.
I’m at that stage in my life in which I thank Almighty God for letting me see one more change of seasons, this one from hot to cool and, by the last week of this month, cold. The beauty of the changing leaves, that curious slant of bronzing sunlight you see only this time of year, is something I feel especially honored to behold.
This is where I might put the preamble to Ray Bradbury’s classic short story collection, The October Country. I’ve got the rest of the month for that, though. This year, I’m running the passage from Anne of Green Gables that I came across on Facebook a couple of years ago that made me want to read the novel. This isn’t one of those cases in which the passage you read is the best part of the book. No, Anne of Green Gables is someone I’m very glad I got to know. From the opening of Chapter XVI:
October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in aftermaths.
Anne reveled in the world of color about her.
“Oh, Marilla,” she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it? Look at these maple branches. Don’t they give you a thrill— several thrills? I'm going to decorate my room with them.”
“Messy things,” said Marilla, whose aesthetic sense was not noticeably developed. “You clutter up your room entirely too much with out-of-doors stuff, Anne. Bedrooms were made to sleep in.”
“Oh, and dream in too, Marilla. And you know one can dream so much better in a room where there are pretty things. I’m going to put these boughs in the old blue jug and set them on my table.”
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?” I’m glad, too, Anne, because, yes, it would absolutely awful to go straight from September to November. Where I live, October is the bridge from warm fall days to the first hard freeze of the season. We may get a few breaks of warmth in November—Thanksgiving has always been pleasant here in southern Colorado—but the nights will require a coat.
In August, I wondered if this summer would be the last I’d ever see. If this is indeed my final October, it’s been most glorious so far. I keep reminding myself the Kingdom of Heaven will be beautiful beyond my comprehension. But this will do for a preview.
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