“August of another summer, and once again
I am drinking the sun . . .”
~ Mary Oliver, The Pond
It turns out that the catch was more plentiful than anticipated and I stay up too late canning salmon. This morning I am tired but content. The freezer is well stocked with enough packages of fish to see us through the winter and beyond; whole crabs slumber frozen waiting to serve as a special treat on days when we’ve almost forgotten they are there.
The air is clear and the sun is back, though not with the intensity we usually have earlier in August. Tomatoes are finally ripening and the garden is generous. Salad days continue. I hold these last days of summer gently; they surface within me a nostalgia for something I can’t quite name.
I sit on the sidewalk and capture images of the fragrant peppermint, in bloom right now and a favourite of the bees. The red and white petunias nearby, planted In honour of Canada’s 150th birthday, are starting to look gangly and garish like they do in late August, but the herbs are at their best. Unobtrusive and steady through the summer they offer late blossoms as gifts.