End Of Summer Blues and Some Quirky Stuff ...

When I lived in New England (most of the first half of my life), summer arrived around June 1st; you could plant things a little before that but the risk for a late killing frost was real.  So by end of June people were enjoying their pools and starting to go to local beaches.  "Real summer", though, was July and August.  The first week of of August was very hot and humid and most people then did not have central air conditioning.  After the August heat wave, came those end of summer blues because the days were numbered and cold weather could blow in at any time after the arrival of September.  I remember one day during the first week of September when the kids all stood at the school bus stop wearing parkas.  That was a rare occurrence, but the icy wind and cold temps were very real that day.

For me, ever the herbalist and gardener, seeing my plants suffer and die with the cold was very sad.  Often I'd dig some of them up and bring them into the house, where, of course, they could not survive -- being outdoor plants.  I would go outside with blankets and towels and cover my marigolds and zinnias each evening until the mother of all frosts would come and get them even through the covers.

In earlier years (childhood) my end of summer blues were about having to return to school and lose my carefree nature hikes, wild berry picking, tree-climbing, and unlimited time with my piano, Estey.  Estey was a used upright that  my mother bought  for me when I was seven or eight years old. He was my most constant and faithful companion for years and years.  I still think of Estey.  Later on, he came to live in the finished basement of my first home during my first marriage.  When the time came for the marriage to end, I was unable to get Estey out through the doorway and basement hatchway (and was given an arbitrary 12 hours in which to do it). I didn't know who to call and then was told that Estey had been cut up ... and removed in that fashion. God bless you, Estey, wherever your splinters lie. And I apologize for getting off-topic -- mainly because I want to celebrate the beauty and joy that summer represents.   

Well anyway, I look at the sweet, innocent faces of my orangey-red zinnias that planted themselves this Spring from last years dropped zinnia plant seeds. The seeds managed to survive the harsh winter freezes.  How beautiful they are ... and trusting. They seem to say "don't worry, be happy"!.  I'll put up a picture of the first one that emerged during July which is kind of late for seeds to sprout.   And, yes, I will cover them if need be as the weeks march onward.

Earlier this summer, my friend gave me two Sorghum plants.  He had, at first, though he had a rogue corn plant growing in his yard but then the plant developed an oval-shaped large seed head at its top and then he found two more sorghums.  The birds love the seeds.  It turns out the sorghum is a valued plant in many parts of the world where food products are made from it   A couple of weeks after he gave me the sorghums which I planted in a pot placed on the east side of my house, I discovered what I thought was another full-grown sorghum under a tree on the west side of my house. Soon, though, it started growing a little tassel on top instead of a seed head and then I noticed a small but very real "ear" growing midway up the plant. Could this be a corn plant?  A week or so farther along and the "ear" seems semi-hollow, but most startling of all -- there are now bristly hairs growing outward on all the vertical stems, including the main stalk.  It looks spooky and humorous.  I took a picture and will put up the one that focuses on the hairs, as well as one that shows the whole plant earlier.

Yes, the end-of-summer-blues.  It seems so recent that I was scraping ice and snow off of the truck and driveway .. and picking up broken tree limbs. For me, time seems to be on fast-forward.  I try to remember that wise advice to "savor each moment".  I'll squeeze as much summer out of the weeks (and months) ahead.  Summer isn't over just because school starts. Especially here in the south, we can keep the spirit of summer going for quite a long time :)

  

Holiday Greetings~~

As you may know (if you've been following my blog), this has been an especially different kind of year for me and has provided me with new and major opportunities for growth, introspection, enlightened perspective, and even humor!

Escaping the church shootings with traumatic, yet minor injuries (compared to the severe injuries and deaths of other people), I've realized more than ever, during the months since that day in July, that the cadence of time keeps rolling along and we need to make the most of every minute of every hour of every day of our lives. Each moment is special and precious, even those moments that seem, on the surface, to be quite ordinary.

I wish you a joyous, merry, awesome holiday season and a new year of peace, health, love and light ...

Celebrate life!

Nature's Lid --

That’s what the descent from Autumn into Winter seems to be, to me. I often think in terms of analogy and images. Imagine now (this will sound kind of wild) that we inhabitants of this hemisphere are in some sort of a vessel or dish on which the lidded top has been moved aside for many months; now, some giant hand is sliding the lid back over us, allowing light to only enter in sidewards, at an angle. We can call it S.A.D. We can call it "closed lid syndrome"! But it is here, folks, cold and sort of claustrophobic. From a lyrical perspective, it’s cozy and kind of nice to find creature comfort in the warmth (be it ever so expensive) of our homes. Venturing outdoors on a cold, blustery day can be stimulating or unpleasant, but Nature is always there for us to observe and appreciate. Each day, as the hands of the clock turn, we are reminded of how persistently and stealthily the lid closes over our horizon, finally covering us in the cloak of winter’s night. Just as mysteriously and wonderfully, the lid will begin to be lifted ... the giant hand will titillate us with widening angles of light at just around the date when we are feeling desperate for it to do so. The cadence of time moves along.