Stay, summer stay!

And it is geranium season too—all of them being in their glorious peak right now, with leaves and blooms so full and round and colorful….  

 

 

 

The enchanting dark yellow Black-eyed Susan are in bloom too.  Late last summer I had this idea of filling my summer garden with yellows.  Yellows, more soothing, beautiful happy yellows! Thus, I divided and planted more of these flowers in several parts of the garden.  My goal was to see more precious yellow among all the pinks of roses and greens of shrubbery... and what gift is has been seeing them flourished as they have.   

 



 

 

...my dream had flourished too, although not as much as I’d had liked it to; the reason being that I have run out of space in the garden, and shrubs and perennials have taken over and have spread out and grown so much, that I can only count with just a few free spaces for my precious yellows… 

Not that I haven’t felt the shift in the atmosphere already… yes, in the heat of August, the earth is already tilting on its axis… and my soul is already feeling it…

It had always happened to me—this discerning of things, of changes so subtle and inconspicuous to the common eye.  I remember when we used to lived here, many years before moving south, how I always felt the same sensation of anticipated changes… a shift almost unnoticeable, a change so elusive and yet there it was… the sun gifting us a new sense of light; green and low in the early morning, making the sky seem laden with rain that never happened...  

 

Knowing change is coming tends to spark a bit of nervous energy within me, making me feel like I need to prepare myself or brace for impact — even when it's as simple as allowing the seasons to turn.  Does this happens to you too?  Can you notice the changes, the sense that something is about to change?  Oh summer, stay a little longer!