I used to have favourite months…

My birthday month. A time when when wild birds are finding their mates, crocuses are in full bloom, and seed heads are heavy and swaying atop wild grasses.

The month of July. The end of the school year, when once again I could be free for six short weeks before a new opportunity arrived with autumn and September, the beginning of a new school year.

October for Halloween. November for Guy Fawkes Night. December for Christmas. January for New Year’s Day. I could pick something I love about every month.

Yet nowadays, when I’m asked which is my favourite I say, “this one”. No longer do I allow myself to become attached to the new buds of spring, the warmth of summer, the migrating geese of autumn, or the cold dark nights of winter.

This month is my favourite, because this is the only one that exists. Previous months are no more. Future months have yet to arrive.

The only month we have, right now, is this one.