September is a Yellow Month

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September is yellow. I don't mean "yellow" in a cowardly sense, just that it is...well, yellow. It feels yellow in a way other months do not.  Why that is, I do not know, but that's the way it is. 

Because it is a yellow month, I, of course, have set all the lighting effects on my tech to shades of yellow. It pleases me to do so. The time for more vibrant colors - the oranges of October's Halloween, the rusty browns of November's falling leaves, and the vibrant reds and greens of December - is not yet here. Instead, we are trapped in the forgettable days of September's yellow.

I believe this is why I have written so little this month.  Granted, I have been swamped with "real-life" hassles and challenges - that has most definitely eaten into my writing time.  But I also think it is because the nation is caught in something of a holding pattern, Gandalf's "deep breath before the plunge." 

November will certainly be one of the most important elections in recent times. Yes, yes: political pundits love to trot out that cliché to motivate their base to get to the polls, but this time the warning isn't overstated.  Everywhere one looks, the nation seems suspended between verdicts. Elections loom. Wars drag on. Economic anxieties simmer beneath every headline. Everyone senses something important is coming, yet nobody can say what shape it will take. The country itself feels trapped in September's yellow haze, suspended between what was and what will be.

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What does this all mean? If you are asking that, you definitely have not been paying attention to what I wrote.  September is a yellow month.  There is no decisive meaning to be had; no clear path forward. We are in a liminal space, a political purgatory of angst and misdirection.  We live from one headline to the next, unable to grasp anything but for a moment.  

Until the yellow fog of September passes, we remain hollow men awaiting events to decide what we ourselves have not yet decided.

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