There are signs all over that summer is finished for another year.
One of these signs is the changing colour of my hydrangea. When the petals turn pink, I know the end of summer is near. Like the leaves on the trees, they become more saturated as the weather cools.
This is my submission for this week’s photography challenge: Signs.
Speaking of whimsical…
I don’t know why I love things that curl, but I get a kick out of these curly grasses that show up in my wildflower (read: “weed”) garden in late summer.
And speaking of summer, it’s the last day of. It is the end of the season I love.
Until next year.
Summer will soon be a memory.
So when that summer sun spills through in September, I stop and let its heat soak through me.
In September, when the leaves are beginning to turn and the mornings are crisp, hot summer afternoons are a welcome gift.
This summer has been short.
There have been days when it has felt more like fall, and days when the rain seemed it would never stop. But this afternoon, the sun is warming my shoulders in my backyard.
I want to take this feeling with me into fall, to warm me on crisp mornings. I want to take it with me into winter, a memory of summer on my back when the snow whitens the earth. I’d like to wrap this summer sun into a package to open when the days are short and the air is icy and its heat seems too far away.
So I soak in this late summer sun, and I make this moment count.