September is a beauty in my neck of the woods, which makes it a bit harder to get back into harness and return to work. The kids who live on my block head to school wearing t-shirts and shorts, with the sweatshirts their mothers press on them wrapped around their waists. I head out to walk the dog following their lead and shiver for the first few minutes, but warm up quickly.

I do not use my ipod when I walk Buddy, the schnauzer, around the block and along the river. I like the sound of the birds. I even like the rush of the traffic. I talk to the Bud-man and his ears perk up. I try to empty my mind and stay in the moment. My mantra is “dappled,” one of the prettiest words in English, which comes to mind because of the play of the light through the trees where I take my daily constitutionals.

And then I sit down to write.

The deadline for my next novel is December 1 and I’m on track to meet it, as long as I continue putting in long, concentrated days as I have been since about Labor Day.
The light at the end of the tunnel is visible from here, which is the most effective motivator of all for me. All systems go.

All in all, September may be my favorite month. Except maybe for June. And July. August is pretty good, too. Trying to keep my head in the moment. How about you?