I’m behind on a lot of things this August. The push of the new school year and the push of the end of summer frenzy collided and filled the days and the evenings. Last night was an open night – one of the first in a long while. We ate leftovers and folded laundry and returned to our library books and reasonable bedtimes. This morning marks the true shift – the start of E’s second week of high school, and F’s first day of third grade.
So I’ve cleared off my camera card from the last four or five visits to the garden. Some are overcast days, cool and dewy. Some are sunny and hot and humid. One was a visit with both girls, one was an early morning walk with just M and my coffee. All were centering points in these busy weeks of summer’s end.
I might work backwards a bit – catching up on things that I missed here. Celebrations and trips and projects. We’ll see. Carving out the space to write isn’t easy, but sometimes there’s a quiet moment here and there to catch up.
It’s been a good summer, and I’m missing it already. The routine of school days is nice, but the fading evening light seems early this year. I’m ready for some cooler weather, but not the loss of light. Not quite yet.
The shadows will change once again in the mornings, and we’ll wear jackets soon for the visits.
A good summer, one of the best. One that’s left me with more pictures than words, for a change.
Posted in local haunts
It’s so hot this week, but I’ve missed the garden so I went anyway. There was an abundance of pinks, and I especially loved the corals/russets/plums near the entrance to the Linnean House. Just beautiful in the early morning light.
It was already in the high eighties by seven o’clock, and the sprinklers were running full force as I walked. I kept looking for shade, but that low sun sneaks in everywhere. It was hard to stay cool.
Sometimes the path forward got interesting – I wrapped my camera in my shirt and made a break for it.
The garden paths are kind of lonely without F. I ducked out early to the boxwood garden instead.
The misters were going here, and the sunlight caught the water in the air in the most magical way.
I would wait for them to stop before I pulled my camera out, but they were cycling on and off every minute, so it wasn’t an easy task.
I walked for an hour and then headed over to SweetArt for breakfast. A rare quiet morning on my own – I took a book and my camera and settled into the silence. It felt good. Sweaty, but good.
Posted in local haunts
It’s hot this week, and we’re starting to feel it in the early mornings too. I considered skipping this week’s visit after the late night at the Muny the night before, but it’s hard to break a habit once it’s formed. The girls were drowsy, but in good spirits. I promised we’d walk straight to the jumping fountains, and this morning they were all in. It was that warm.
The oranges and yellows and pinks are in full force, but in the shade there are magical things happening. We shadow hopped our way through the place and tried to stay cool.
I’m seeing so many of the flowers that we’ll see in a few weeks when we’re on vacation. It makes me think of the things that I need to do before said vacation, but I try to force those thoughts to the rear for the rest of the walk.
Instead I look for the weirdly beautiful things, buds unfurling, seed pods twirling, leaves that seemed to have been painted by garden fairies in the night. A cardinal plays in the fountains with the girls, hopping one pad in front of them each time. I finally catch him in the frame.
I’m glad we started this longest day of the year here. The garden at its peak is not to be missed.