The Frenchie was telling me that there should be some sort of astral pyrotechnics - meteor showers? comets? - over Europe the next few nights. Nothing so spectacular here right now; the Perseids were the last big thing around these parts I think. Still, condensation trails reflecting the red of the setting sun isn't too shabby.
After a fair period of wet, the weather's turned absolutely glorious. The past few days, we've had spectacular sunrises, a warm and intense daylight, lovely pastel-ey sunsets. Folks have been calling it "Indian Summer," but I think it's too early for that; haven't had a frost yet.
Moved indoor operations outdoors as much as I could so as to drink in that wonderful, free vitamin D. Noted that a lot of the Spring plantings bloomed again, possibly (sadly) for the last time this year. Picked three small melons that tasted like cucumbers from a withered vine, watered the amazingly fast-growing lettuce, planted the late kale.
On the one hand, I would be very happy if things would stay the way they are. On the other, perhaps I'm seeing it as so beautiful precisely because it won't last. Warm, soft and golden will be replaced by bare branches and crystal - a bit harder, with sharper edges, but not without their own charms.
2 comments:
This is probably my favorite time of the year.
Mine too. (Though I do wish the days weren't so short!)
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