Everything has to come to an end, sometime. L. Frank Baum, The Marvelous Land of Oz The calendar still says August, but it has gently transformed into a slower and gentler month. These last few days feel more like autumn than summer; subtle signs of the change of seasons abound. Busy, almost frantic, days give way
Our gardening forebears meant watermelon to be the juicy, barefoot taste of a hot summer's end, just as a pumpkin is the trademark fruit of late October. Most of us accept the latter, and limit our jack-o'-latern activities to the proper botanical season. Waiting for a watermelon is harder. It's tempting to reach for melons,
Without darkness, nothing comes to birth, As without light, nothing flowers. May Sarton Gerry throws open the curtains in the bedroom and I see an outline of mountains across the valley visible through the smoke this morning. That’s improvement, and a good start to the week. Still, I feel the need to dig through my
It is the still, yellow kind of afternoon when one is apt to get stuck in a dream if one sits very quiet. Dodie Smith I look forward to a run of still, yellow August afternoons. My weary body tells me it is in need of rest by manifesting symptoms that need attention. My mind
When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden. Minnie Aumonier We head to the garden to water after supper. I’m tired, having spent most of the day on my feet in the kitchen canning tomato soup. It’s a simple process, but it seems to take so long by the
When we lose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place. C.S. Lewis It’s an ordinary moment; the best ones are. Makiya is tucked into bed with a book, I’m on the couch nursing a back in spasm, and Laurinda is sitting on the floor folding laundry. We’re chatting and half-watching an
These bones I carry were borrowed from women much stronger than I. Know that when you need them, you can borrow mine.” Nichole McElhaney, A Sisterhood of Smoke and Ash The day begins with roll kuchen and a new summertime tradition is born. There is a nature walk. . . . sandcastles on the beach.