A September Essay
September is the turning point month that divides summer from fall. The astrological change occurs with the Autumnal Equinox beginning with September 23rd or so. Right now, even well before the 23rd, the days are hotter in the afternoons because the sun's angle is more oblique, and the evenings and nights are cooler by contrast. The hues and tones of the late afternoon light are already of a definite orange, yellow cast.
September is the 9th month of the Gregorian calendar, but it is the 7th month of the Roman calendar, and is named "September" after the Latin for seven, 'septem'. I wonder if the similar sounding word 'septum' from Latin saeptum, a thin dividing membrane that is a partition as in the nose and other tissues would provide a better etymology? With its Autumnal Equinox, isn't September the month of the balance sign of Libra, and the balance that Saint Michael carries at his belt? Why not? This etymology (septem and saeptum) is more fun, and being linguistically correct isn't everything, even though the word September does derive from the Latin seven, 'septem'.
The heat loving plants of my garden have absorbed all of the sun's energy that they need in order to bloom before the the heat subsides. Gardenia japonica is is full bloom now, scenting the air with inimitable ambiant fragrance. Gardenia japonica var. "Augusta" blooms and grows stronger if it is grafted on Gardenia thunberbgia stock. When "Augusta" grows on its own roots it doesn't flourish. I have made it a point to get some Gardenia thunbergias; I grafted a G. japonica on one, and I have allowed the other plant to grow freely. So, my Gardenia thunbergia is a very large shrub now and in a few more years it will be be a small tree. If you want to see a good specimen of G. thunbergia, visit Walter Andersen's Nursery in Point Loma. Go into the back yard by the fish ponds against the left wall, and there it grows as it has for many years. It is the only one that I know of in this area.
My G. thunbergia produces three inch, nine-petalled flowers of the most delicate scent. The morning scent lasts until the sun gets hot, and the flowers last only one day, and there is a definite dividing line for their lives, and they don't even know it. Why cannot the gardenia perfumes ever replicate the exact scent of the actual flowers? Easy--they are chemical concoctions, imitations. They are like embalmed scents, beautiful as they are, but nevetheless artificial. It is for the same reason that sopranos such as the great Beverly Sills, who has beautiful overtones to her voice, never sounds the same on disk as she did in an actual concert setting. So, grasp the flower, (and the voice) and its scent before the balance shifts and it is gone.
The music of my night garden tells me that a great seasonal change is about to happen. I hear the musical chirping of the crickets--they are exuberant in their singing. Moreover they are antiphonal. I hear one singing close by my window, and then I hear another one (sometimes others) singing at a distance. The two pulses of sound start off as separate sounds, but then they gradually synchronize or merge, finally becoming one sound of a chordal nature, and then they gradually separate or divide again into two sounds; the one chirping near and the other chirping far away. This phenomenon, that I first discovered for myself, is what Gaston Bachelard talks about in "L'intuition de l'instant". He says that all Nature is a constant flowing of "inward and outward", "back and forth", "far and near," of "retreat and expansion" and of a spiral, vortex quality at that. Lucio Alberto Pinheiro dos Santos, a Brazilian philospher, (1889-1950) says the same thing in slightly different words. And Henri Lefebfre says that the so-called noises of the world are not noises at all. All the murmurs (reumers) have meaning, and he implores us not to forget to listen to the Silences between the notes: isn't that really what music is? These Silences are what I listen to or for as they happen between the far and near, among the alternate and simultaneous singing of the crickets. What beautiful, varied silences they are, and they soothe my Spirit as I lay in my bed. The Silences, like the negative spaces in sculptures, are lovely and mysterious.
My own living experiences, the explanations of Bachelard, Lucio Pinheiros, and Henri Lefebre give credence (from perhaps more intellectual statements than mine) to the September sounds of Silence in my own little garden, and in all of Nature. And, the cricket chirps change! As the season cools down to early winter, when ther are fewer flowers, the crickets' singing notes will assume descending cadence becoming slower as well. And finally, they will, one night, cease. As W. H. Auden says in his poem about gardens, "Their Lonely Betters", all of Nature thrives without knowing that it is dying; this insight is only reserved for the existence of "Their Lonely Betters", we self conscious, self aggrandizing humans. But we can be like the flowers and the crickets if we dwell entirely in the experiential moment, sans talking or naming.
The sun enters Libra on the very moment of the Autumnal Equinox, The Scales, and that is another
energy laden change. The Earth and its creatures, plant and animal, have received the sun's powerful energy. They have taken in all they can accomodate. So now it is time for the earth to slow down. Now the Earth needs for the plants to give back, to return the nourishment--what has been taken will now be given back, and that is the deep significance of the scales that Saint Michael the archangel always carries at his belt. His feast day Michaelmas is celebrated on September 29. The season has changed; energies will balance out. The sign Libra is named 'bilancio' in Italian, so symbolic of Michael and the turning season.
Michael is the leader of the angels, and he serves and defends all of those who are in dire distress. He is sometimes shown in paintings and sculptures brandishing his sword, vanquishing the demon, and carrying the scales at his belt. His name, Michael or Micah means "he who is like God". He is the true guardian of the limen or threshold, the doors of change, and the initiator of a new and compassionate relationship between man and the Divine.
