September is here. For me, a very beloved month because it announces the end of summer, the most dreadful season of the year. Although autumn does not begin until the 21st, depending on the year, the day or the light is already different. It is as if it took a step back, a small step, indeed, but full of meaning. The light begins to tilt and the air, despite the current heat, takes on a kind of unprotected note and announces rains and yellow leaves and muddy paths and decay on the ground. This in the forest, of course. The scent of autumn begins to weave itself from the very beginning. For me, it is a sweet and anise-like scent of fennel. Sometimes, there are years when September has a bunch of calm days, of suspended stillness, of active happiness. The sea has a tired blue, the sky is transparent and only some small cloud wanders through it, white, protective. This is when there is no storm, when the streams do not come down wildly, when the tumult of the water does not carry everything away to the sea.

Heat, beach, mountains, lunches, gatherings with friends, picnics, dinners by the sea, late meals, and a host of activities have filled our holidays, but have also thrown our spending and habits out of control. Now, upon returning, the scene of opening the fridge and finding almost nothing is repeated in many homes.