Passing  the summer to arrive in autumn. 

September, balance. 

What we desire to be the September?

A month with more fruits ?

A pastel of colors?

The leaves under our feet?

Over , the  temperate sun, the warm in alternans?

The morning, the noon, the evening, are diverse one of other , the colors are accentuated in rise and sunset. 

The temperature diverse , a cold lightly, leaving the riches by autumn. 

After a madness of the summer  to fell the lack of balance , a temperate air  pretty for thinking at tomorrow. 

Tranquility for the family , for you yourself , a think suspended in the summer.

Tomorrow can to be a future , the new things, the memories lost, the initiatives in vanguard. 

The moments of reflexing in panel of colors , a hand by paintre, an philosopher eye; they light up the autumn, the tranquility and the beauty.

You look a tree, walk in wet grass, the wind caress you , for all you fell the fragrance of fruits , matured, ready to be gathered. 

A work in nature, open for all, legerity in movements, free in thinks, without annoying others.

A horn of abundance in hands of Bacchus, the dance for wine, the joy of Gods.  

For stopping the time you try to be in dance, so you can fell the music, rolling the rhythm in sons , each colors is a note, the symphony enter in harmony with the body, for a day , for a month.

When you are happy , you want closed the times. 

When you feel the music, you are in harmony with the nature. 

When you love is the beauty.

When you are sad  look a tree, a leave, a flower. 

For a moment you change the colors , the words, the sentiments, all is a change for prepared the autumn, in tranquility, reflexing and work. 

September abounds , the rain falls, the Terre change the color, the wind to make hearing. 

A change of seasons, a month divers. 

For to be utile you walk over the Terre , you look the tree and starting to work , the sunflower make tour after the sun , lover or sad.

Who knows?

A yellow in immensity , far of thinks, remains only a remember, renovated with every year, the riches of autumn always is present. 

In attend remains the symphony of colors, la riches od Terre with his people in effort of existence. 

A start is always , at end you remain lost , lost in another months.