September.

After my last deeply reflective piece I thought I would just talk about my love for Melbourne in September. This is the first of a string of pieces on the topic. Let me know about your favourite September in Melbourne memories. I want to share some of the passsssion people! (Pics can be included, videos are definitely off the record).
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As a tried and true Melbournian, I’ve experienced four seasons in one day far too many times. Sleets of rain, heavy fog, dewy grass and the sun frustratingly peeking through the clouds just as it starts to set. But not September. September is the month when everything just feels better. The shorts come out, our toes start to forego the protection of our shoes and emerge into the open air and people move to their own beat. Our music tastes shift from moody blues to jovial jives and cafes become outdoor jaunts rather than a group huddle just below the heater.

Yep, September is the month when we come alive and announce that we are ready to live again! Okay, okay, let’s not get too dramatic, we’re Melbournians. Understated and hip, not overbearing and obnoxious. Yet it is hard not to get excited when the smell of September stings the air. We pledge allegiance to a certain flag. Not that of the Southern Cross, but that of a Hawk, a Cat or most controversially, a Bomber. We start to plan days of drinking ciders and beer at our favourite venues and nights of sweaty dancing and hugs with strangers. We pull our surfboards out of storage and tip our feet into salty water again, and the feeling. Oh, the feeling is unexplainable!

We muse about how fast the year has flown past and our fear of growing another year older. But it’s okay because love is in the air, hope is in the water and elation is in the sparkles of sunshine. September is the month we have earned for living through the endless conversations about the chilly winter and the freezing nights. September is our reward for staying loyal to our great Southern city when the call of a tropical climate screamed louder than the fat lady singing in the last quarter at the MCG. September is when the trains all seem to arrive on time, Acland Street becomes a Sunday afternoon hub and the Yarra River is filled with rowers, surrounded by picnic rugs and passed by every bike rider in town.

September is the month when we take long lunches, make the difficult choice between a hot or a cold latte, say hi to passing strangers and acknowledge that this is the month that makes Melbourne… Melbourne.

Slippin' 'n' slidin' into September.
Slippin’ ‘n’ slidin’ into September.
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