I suppose it is no different in Maine than in other New England states, but Maine in September seems special to me. The weather really changes - daily - sometimes hourly. Today was just blah when I got up, but it seemed to clear up nicely until afternoon when a variety of clouds moved in from the north west (so the weatherman said) and overhead there were thick dark rain laden blankets. But layered above and below in random patterns, there were shades of gray. And around those there were puffy fluffy fleecy shifting white rimmed with gold clouds.
As I drove along I went into and out of showers. Some were almost blindingly torrential, thankfully very brief. Some were big drops that pelted. Some were fine as mist. The clouds were just doing what clouds do. Drifting around and occasionally tipping up and dumping on us.
The temperature has cooled significantly, but we will get more hot weather before winter sets in - and hopefully more rain - we need the woods to be wet to protect them from forest fires and to give the hunters and edge in November.
Another September in Maine event is the continuing road work. This year nearly every road is getting something done to it. Major rebuilding of crumbling bridges; resurfacing of miles of road that the commissioner declared "worn out." Fortunately most of the actual work is done at night, but all day long crews do what they can, and the flag men (who do not hold flags but double-sided "Stop/Slow" signs so why do they call them flag men?) anyway,they slow down the traffic causing people to get temperamental.
The kids are back in school so the buses rumble around from street to street. And the corners are populated with little ones in new sneakers and outfits. The orchards have signs out "U PICK" . I don't pick, thanks anyway. Lots of flowers are still blooming. Leaves are turning, and some are falling. Sweaters come out of the cedar chest; shorts go into storage. Farmers' markets are featuring fresh corn, cukes, tomatoes, summer squash and zucchini (you can have my share of both). Today I saw a big bright blue bus with something about Jordan's Rolling Fresh Market lettered on it. Nice idea. Reminds me of being at the beach for the summer when Mr. Snyder came twice a week with his old Reo truck with the swinging scale, loaded with fresh fruits and vegetables. Mr. Snyder had a strange accent. I asked my mother once why he talked "like that" and she said, with a straight face, "He is from Italy." ITALY? SNYDER? Did she really think that?
Enough. September in Maine - September in The Rain - glorious, last of summer September. Enjoy it while it lasts.