I think today was the last real day of summer for our fair valley. Eighty-four degrees, blue sky.
I told my family I was going to spend the day outside. And I did. Herbs were harvested along with tomatoes, green beans, and the last of the sugar snap peas. Then the beans and pea plants were uprooted, their short, wire protectors removed. The tomato/lettuce garden was relieved of weeds thanks to daughter, Caroline.
Then, I watered my flowers, wondering if it was for the last time. There was a lot of love there, in that gesture.
Not wanting to let go of the last blue-sky-golden-sun day I grabbed the cushion from the chaise, dropped it to the freshly cut lawn, slid sunglasses over my eyes, and stretched out to receive the nourishing rays. Glory! Above me green maple leaves gently swayed on graceful branches catching the afternoon breeze, lulling. Fuzzy honey bees dipped, and floated.
Half an hour into my reverie I rolled over onto my stomach and began running my fingers through the grass. Thin blades thickly gathered, soften my steps, delight my senses. Hard to believe the days of plopping down to sunbathe have reached their end. Soon the lawn will be soggy, the sky gray, the air cold.
Lamentations rocked back and forth in my head. I don't want summer to end. I've had such fun this year! I'm not ready, not ready, not ready.
Sigh. Deep, long, loud, sigh.
Could it be, I muse, that summer was fun because of something inside of me? A thing that remains? A little attitude, perchance, that may infuse itself into my autumn as well? Yes, that's entirely possible.
In that case, here's to autumn, to possibility, to keeping myself open to discovery!
Greetings, Autumn! What will you teach me?