September is for sweet and spiced hot teas. For the first-wear of sweaters and sleeping in. September is for silly movies on the weekends and soup for dinner. For sunny, but chilly evenings, rushing home to snuggle. September is for comfy, cuddly sofas. For sharpened pencils and schools books on the table.
When I came home today and curled up on the couch in a September-happy outfit - a crisp button down in a fun print and velvet pants, with a cup of vanilla chai, I was feeling very season-happy. I got to wear a chic (read: not too heavy or functional) jacket all day, bought my new rainboots as they just came back into stock in my size on Amazon, and I have my sights set on a rain jacket and fleece shopping trip this weekend! Thanks for being seasonal, Oregon!
I grew up without real seasons in Hawaii, though it certainly got chilly in the winter mornings at my house. We once saw 41 degrees on the thermometer. But the leaves didn't change color, the nip in the air wasn't quite so bone-chilling, and people didn't get into the season as much... probably because it was still 85 degrees in town and you can't wear a scarf in that heat. Here? Wardrobes change instantly. Jackets fill the streets instead of bare shoulders. Coffee cups get even more common in hands. Everything smells like the holidays approaching. It's magic. And even if most of the time it's soggy as all get out, I wouldn't trade living in a place with seasons for anything!