I know, it’s still summer. But I feel the whisper of changing seasons in the air and I don’t know that I’ve ever been as ready for autumn as I am this year.
Half the garden is already lying fallow. I chose not to plant a fall crop of anything and I’ve started pruning the tomato “trees” back. I took out the Black Krim tomato plant. It was the favourite for an unnamed garden pest and the yield, like that of all the tomato plants, was less than prior years thanks to our cool, wet summer.
The forecast shows hot days still ahead, but I expect the nights and early mornings will still have that unmistakable autumn feel. Around here, we have one more busy week of Camp G and G to enjoy (and boy, are we enjoying it) before our granddaughter goes home.
I steal a minute to pop into my manuscript and make a note. I glance at the dried garlic on the back patio on the way to the hot tub and think I need to get busy and clean it and get it ready for the freezer. I send emails to myself as reminders of writer-things I want to pay attention to next month. I pick tomatoes and display them like art on my kitchen counter.
One week from today, September will dawn with the promise of new beginnings. I challenge myself not to run too far ahead though I’m dreaming of days like the photo in this post. There are still burgers to barbecue, ice cream cones to lick, summer fruit to feast on, and—best of all—a granddaughter to enjoy. Ah but, Autumn. I’m ready for you.