I was never sorry to see school start in the fall. I recall asking my mother one time if she thought that was weird. She said, “No, it’s your job, and everybody needs to get back to work.” (I remember this, but it doesn’t mean it really happened. But it’s the kind of thing I would have asked and she would have said, so it’s true either way.)
You can see summer’s end in the body language of every kid laden with a backpack and in the slant of the sunlight in the late afternoon. It's been a while since I was one of those kids, but I remember.
In the fall of 1970, I was the first kid on my school bus every morning, at 6:50AM, and thus I rode on gravel roads and paths trodden by cows through the wilds of Green County for over an hour before getting to school. Being the first kid on, I had my pick of seats. The back of the bus is the most desirable spot, but what you must know about the social dynamics of the school bus back then is that little kids didn’t get to sit in the back. One particular morning, the seat I chose was underneath the radio speaker. And on that morning, the bus driver responded to popular demand of the older kids by tuning in WLS, the classic Top 40 giant from Chicago. And the rest, as they say, is history. I fell utterly in love with radio and with the music that came out of it.
So September and October feels to me like the season of the year in which everything began.