第9部分

請關閉瀏覽器的閱讀/暢讀/小說模式並且關閉廣告遮蔽過濾功能，避免出現內容無法顯示或者段落錯亂。

he　year　consolidates　itself。　Deliberate　September—in　its　own　time　and　tempo—begins　to　sum　up　another　summer。

With　September　es　a　sense　of　autumn。　It　creeps　in　ona　misty　dawn　and　vanishes　in　the　hot　afternoon。　It　tiptoes　through　the　treetops。　rouging　a　few　leaves；　then　rides　a　tuft　of　thistledown　across　the　valley　and　away。　It　sits　on　a　hill　top　and　hoots　like　an　October　owl　in　the　dusk。　It　plays　tag　with　the　wind。　September　is　a　changeling；　busy　as　a　squirrel　in　a　hickory　tree；　idle　as　a　languid　brook。　It　is　summer’s　ripen　and　richness　fulfilled。

Some　of　the　rarest　days　of　the　year　e　in　the　September　season—days　when　it　is　fortably　cool　but　pulsing　with　life；　when　the　sky　is　clear　and　clean；　the　air　crisp；　the　wind　free　of　dust。　Meadows　still　smell　of　hay　and　the　sweetness　of　cut　grass。　September　flowers　are　less　varied　than　those　of　May　but　so　abundant　that　they　make　September　another　flowery　month。　Goldenrod　es　by　mid…August；　but　rises　to　a　peak　of　golden　abundance　inearly　September。　Late　thistles　make　spectacular　purple　accents。　And　asters“blossom　everywhere；　along　the　rcadsides；　in　meadows；　on　the　hilltops；　even　in　city　lots；　ranging　in　color　from　pure　whitethrough　all　degrees　of　lavender　to　the　royal　New　England　purpie。”

We　think　of　spring　as　the　miracle　time；　when　opening　bud　and　new　leaf　proclaim　the　persistence　of　life。　But　September　is　when　the　abiding　wonder　makes　itself　known　in　a　subtler　way。　Now　growth　es　to　annual　fruition；　and　preparations　are　pleted　for　another　year；　another　generation。　The　acorn　“ripens　and　the　hickory　nut　matures。　The　plant　mits　its　future　to　the　seed　and　the　root。　The　insect　stows　tomorrow　in　the　egg　and　the　pupa。　The　surge　is　almost　over　and　lire　begins　to　relax。

甜美的九月（3）

The　green　prime　is　passing。