Dear Diary...

August 27—Delicious delicious weather. Today, the earth woke up under a gray blanket of rain… finally.  After months and months without a drop of precious rain.  A wretchedness of a rain it was indeed, but nonetheless rain that brought down new life and a much-needed cleansing.  And how beauty everything looked after it cleared off.  After days and days enclosed in a heavy haziness brought down to our valley from near wildfires, one almost forgot how clear and pristine everything really looks and are.  Rain dissipated all obscurity from the atmosphere, and it gave us a new pair of eyeglasses with which to see the world anew.

...rain, wonderful, all merciful delightful rain cleansing all vestige of gloominess and pollutions from the air and gifting us again the precious vision of tall mountains arising from a clear horizon.

All fog and smoke from wildfires gone, now only blue skies and tree canopies already shifting and turning into a mellow panorama of yellows and burnt oranges.  Dark greens turning into a lighter shade of greens, lime-green, and buttery greens.  And how beautiful, how lovely my little world is turning… 

Autumn seems to have arrived suddenly this year.  Or perhaps, I just had forgotten how quickly seasons turn and change around here, and how brief our summers are?  Our mornings are crisp and already turning golden as an apple. 

August 28—Today I brought in part of my potted plant collection for the winter.  All the flowering geraniums, houseplants that were out for the summer, as well as the succulents and some of my Tropical plants.  Perhaps, it is a little too early to start nursing our hearts to the coziness of the insides, but nights and mornings are getting cooler and I decided to start acclimatizing them now that it is still nice and sunny, for soon it’ll be too cold around here, and winds will be howling like wolves outside.

August 29—Joe, came with the Tatarian Maple tree and the Collette rose we bought at Edwards this past weekend, and planted them.  

How beautiful, and how lovely everything looked in the garden with the cooler weather; how clear and blue are the skies, and how healthy and green the grasses and shrubs.  It is almost like some kind of a magical place where you just sit all day long and contemplate what surround you in quiet waves of joy.  

I can hardly wait for this beautiful giant to grow so we can finally have the privacy I crave and the feel of being enclosed within the garden, without having to see or think of our neighbors all the time...

 

Larger than life to me—my garden; my sanctuary and the place where angels thread.  I love it so much… 

PS:  Are any of you having any issues with Blogger lately?  My computer, or Blogger is incorporating so many unwanted codes in my posts that it is almost disheartening to the point of giving up.  It only takes me around 3 hours every time I post, just to make it look decent.  So frustrating!

Changes

Lately, while on my daily morning jogs around our neighborhood, I have noticed that some of the trees have already starting to lose their jewels; a magical swirl of leaves dancing on the floors in a Russian roulette with the winds, and I have noticed that neighborhood cats warming up under the marvelous morning sun are cozying up in shaggier furs and that the geese have started their magical journey south, to warmer climates.  I love to hear their honking songs far away on the horizon when I’m running, only to see them pass high up above my head sooner than I had predicted, or thought they would.  So swift they are and so meticulous in their ways. Like soldiers of some armies of the sky, always so punctilious and precise.

The weather is changing too, with temperatures 20 degrees cooler than on those hot summer days of just a few weeks ago.  I am already embracing cozy moments inside and hot drinks...

 

The garden is already mellowing down too. Slowly, decay sets in.  Last Sunday, I planted two Black eye Susan plants around the big fountain, so rich in color, so evocative of summer and the turn to fall at the same time.  This time in the season is always a poignant moment of the year to me.  The end of summer… and suddenly, I want summer to stay a while and I feel the slight shiver of apprehension the fall brings with it in our northwestern climate.

The lovely giants of the pond—the Elephant Ears are doing as splendidly as expected around here. I planted those bulbs this spring, and the plants have only grown as tall as they shall be for this zone; never to reach the height they used to in my southern gardens.  For summers here are short and they won’t stand our temperatures past the beginning of September.  So sad to see them gone so soon.

Is Nature also changing in your parts of the world too?

Gypsy trails

August 18—Because the gypsy caravan started out much later than usual going up the hills that took them apart from the rest of the world, the Wild-hair girl and her Fisherman were left to roam this earth of God in search of a place to spend the night.  While on their way up the big mountains and forest, soon the sun started its descend behind the horizon.  It was a slow change at the beginning; almost imperceptibly at first, but all too well letting them know that night was quickly approaching.  They needed to find a place.  

They stopped at several campgrounds, but just like Mary and Joseph did on that holy night long ago, they couldn’t find a place to spend the night… so they kept going up and up the mountains, driving on the curviest of roads way up the tops of beautiful mountains and roads above the serpentine river down below… until finally, night started to descend upon them. By now it was imperative to find a place… and they did.

Finally, a place was found, but it was sorts of a different gypsy camp, for it was a place where people and other gypsies just like them would bring their horses and horse trailers and carriages with them, and where beautiful horses were roaming around and eating from special containers made just for them…

They prepared their dinner and went inside their gypsy caravan to read and watch movies until they felt very sleepy and went to sleep…  

In the morning…  what a beautiful surprise they were bound for!  A lovely, summer morning and the bluest most clear skies welcomed them to their horse-camp, and one of the most spectacular places of all the places they had stayed in a long while; brimming as it was with all sorts of wildflowers and wildlife.   

Never had the Wild-hair girl seen so many different flowers in one same spot!  She made huge bouquets with them to bring home…

The forest seemed to gleam under gentle sunrays, while the tall flowers swayed back and forth under warm breezes.  It was such a beautiful, tranquil place.  And they were so happy to have found it!

Summer

August 19—today, I planted two Black-eyed Susan plants in the border facing the porch, by where the big fountain stands.  And thus, I have started working towards accomplishing this little dream of mine of seeing the garden embellished with bright, yellow glories.  I also pulled out all the daylilies that have ended up exhausting my patience in my attempts of bringing this garden back to beauty and harmony.  For they all had become an eyesore; droopy as they were and overgrown with no flowers whatsoever; always taking too much space in the garden while obliterating beauty.  So, I was not to waste one more minute or effort on contemplation, in the hope of seeing them do better. They are all out of the garden now, except for one or two plants here and there.  And what a relief doing this has been.

Today I have also finished up dividing the clumps of Shasta daisies that were left on that part of the garden that had become too cramped and already too suffocated under these perennials’ abundant beauty.  Will they thrive? We’ll have to wait until next spring to see what survive and what not.  But I’m optimistic.  

The landscaping guys are quoting me a crazy amount for planting the three trees I need to conceal the two-story house directly facing ours on the back.  Such monstrosity that house is, and one discouraging vision—like a giant with two enormous eyes (windows) looking straight down at us while stripping us off of all sense of privacy and confinement in Nature. I will simply have to do it myself or find someone that can do it for less.

True to their rugged, mountainous origins, the crabapple trees are heavy with fruits; sour enough to set a squirrel's teeth on edge and make a jay scream.  But what a beautiful fruit display in the late season they are.  Plus, they’re useful too when it comes to firming up jellies, jams, and apple butter.

Birds, love them too, and often attack its fruits with gusto as the crop softens and ages with successive freezes in the fall.

And what’s not to love about summer?  Mornings are busy with the sounds and ways of nature, mourning doves cooing my hours, little birds singing little happy songs among branches heavy under their bounties, small breezes carrying the intoxicating scent of some unidentified tree, or shrub—sweet, with the taste of vanilla on the tip of my tongue.  And floating in the midafternoon sun illuminated atmosphere, the purple puffs of the Royal Smoke bushes; like some extraordinary and beautiful fairies of some mysterious places dancing in my very own gardens.   

I love summer—what can I say?  I dream and wish for it with such intensity during our long winters, that to wish it gone now when is in its highest phase is heresy to my summer loving heart.  So, alas, let us bask in all its graces for some time longer, let us rejoice in whatever dose of discomfort, or pleasure it has to offer us, for way too soon it will vanished from the horizon of time, only leaving us dreaming and wishing for it again...