The calendar has moved into August and the pressure is off. Racing to get out to the garden with the wheelbarrow and weed bucket has turned into a leisurely pace of drifting with my camera to capture photos of the showy casa Blanca lilies wrapped up in a cascade of morning glory vines, the bee balm laden with honeybees and nictotiana beckoning the hummingbird moths. The remains of the garden party from the night before set in the middle of the summer garden captures a moment in time that will never come again.
Nature knows that the turn of summer has taken place and from where I sit with the French doors open wide, the light has shifted and heat of summer has slowly slipped away. Birds swoop in flocks rather than pairs, descending on seedpods left behind by the hollyhocks and sunflowers, lightly bending the tall stems. At night the frogs give way to the subtle harp of the cricket.
August is a bittersweet month, a turning point from the heady, fast paced momentum that started in April when the first lettuce and pea seeds were sown with an eager hunger for the first taste that would follow in late spring. This morning, a gentle rain moistened the soil and I planted the last seeds of the season: lettuce, spinach, kale and meslcun in a final attempt to hold back summer a little longer. Decorating the bird bath with flowers creates a dance of colors to honor the season and beckons the birds dip their wings as they pass through.
