Summer is beginning to think about parking her bags and heading south. Her late summer floral display is at its peek. It’s a prolific display of color and height but by the end of August it too will have begin to wither as it stores future generations of its species in the seed heads or opens its pods to the passing wind.
Its the time for the crickets and the cicadas to fill the warm air with their unique mating sounds.
This garden is a world unto itself, a microcosm of nature’s wider display.
Before long the skies will be filled with the call of these great wayfarers of the north country heading south for the winter.
Sometimes when the moon is full and the stars are bright I will hear them passing overhead under the cloak of night calling directions to one another through the long hours of darkness.
Sometimes I’ll bear only a solitary member of a flock calling and calling as though in search of a lost mate. Perhaps its only my imagination but in that solitary call I hear the pain of a broken heart when there is no answering reply.
The circle of the seasons revolves according to the dictates of the sun god. Oh, we will have some warm, sunny days yet, but they will come later and last for fewer hours. As much as we may want the season to slow down, to last longer it will follow its own rhythm and before long this garden as it looks today in its multi colored splendor will be only a memory. but for now it explodes in the bright gold of the Black eyed Susan's and the multiple shades of purple and a variety of asters and chrysanthemums.