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!

In the August garden

It is the second season of the roses, it is a rebloom of glories and pinks and lavenders again... and the garden has dressed itself in sweet petals once again; I supposed, for the last time of the year, although I like to think that I should see another burst at the end of September, before autumn starts to settle in…

I am delighted with what I am seeing, collecting, feeling... happy to live surrounded by roses in my little Paradise. There is nothing more special or magical at the end of a hot summer's day than strolling this small plot of land and feel rooted right there and then.  You can smell the heat coming up from the earth to meet the cooler evening air; magic waft from tree to tree and from rose bush to rose bush... what can I say?  It's hard to believe I'm here, that all I see is mine... to take care of, to plant to sow to enjoy and love...  I am thankful so thankful!

 

...and birds, ah birds!  They seem to be enjoying this wonderful little world where I live, as much as I do, and as  passionately. 

Babies are being born almost every day and you can find their mommas busy searching everywhere for wiggly worms to feed their wee ones...

Every day around 6:00 in the afternoon the large mourning doves couple comes down to drink from the birdbath, they resemble angels gracefully floating down in the music of their wings.  I sit on the rattan chair by the grapevine, and my soul, too, flies away in the beauty surrounding me… from my left then comes the frantic tweets of baby robins being feed by their momma in an interval of 10 to 15 minutes… what a ruckus they make, and how very hungry must they be, and what a lesson of patience, and genuine love from the unrelenting mother…

I love summer, I love to feel the warmth, or the heat of days spent in the garden… the taste of sweet fruits, to watch the butterflies flow, hear the squirrels chatter and the hummingbirds swoon, till evening comes with the summer moon.  So please, summer, stay a while longer. Continue on bringing your long, lazy days. I'll cherish each blue sky and enjoy and love all the roses you can gift…

The old gypsies set out again this past weekend to explore the world.  Their souls yearned for the luxury of the mountains and the pleasantness of rivers, but there was no escape from the heat; no solace from the sun whatsoever…

Up, up into those glorious mountains they went; to that beautiful place, parapet by a placid lake… but when they got there, nothing felt right… the heat was unbearable and the lake seem made out of fire and glass.

The place was less crowded than usual, and there wasn’t a single soul around.  The rows of glorious lilac trees barricading the campsite were devoid of blooms this time and the shady places were scarce and unprotected from the intense glare.  The lake, too, was unusually quiet and undisturbed by boats or swimmers… 
  

The intense sun of summer had charred grasses and withered low bushes; birds were hardly seen either and all around you, you could feel the air, dried and unhappy, exhaling into your face...

The old gypsies ate their lunch in silence, feeling heavy and groggy. Not a single soul was seen anywhere, as if the place was devoid of people, and it felt deserted and like a place of the dead. They went to hide inside their gypsy trailer, thankful that they could count on electricity to turn on the air-conditioning and saved from dying of a heat stroke… 

Evening brought the magic back to the land and the last sun spread out a magical cloak upon the waters, filling it with diminutive sparkling stars that moved and shined and dance in sheer glee… the earth filled with a new freshness and mellower temperatures, breathed magic upon the land and upon the heart of the old gypsies. How beautiful, how very beautiful everything looked and felt then…

The doors of the gypsy trailer were flung open and the gypsy girl swept up the floors and cleaned up the place, while her Fisherman went down to the lake to talk to his fishes… 

  

This is why the camp, this is why they go out heat or cold… to find themselves in finding Nature, and to be one in soul, with this old world, and with each other…