It’s never been my favorite month, filled with biting, stinging bugs trapping us inside during the day, brittle brown grass, and exhausted gardens. A never ending rolling wall of hot darkness closing in earlier each night, that made the lazy dawn sleep longer.
Heat trapped in stifling houses, bricks and pavement burning feet. Half naked, fully rude vacationers whooping it up all night on every sparkling jewel of a beach, I longed for them to leave us alone once again.
August felt like a combination of too much heat, too many vehicles clogging up highways, strong water restrictions, and a weak lack of rain. When it seemed that we couldn’t take anymore, when unrelenting clouds of heat never seemed to give us a break. It was something to be endured, and it was hard to understand how others loved it, watched it go with regret, when I couldn’t wait until the cooling breezes of September blew the tourists away.
Until this year, a time of record breaking temperatures from May onwards. The year of the second hottest July on record…as in for as long as they have kept records.
With so little rain we surveyed crunchy brown grass, and burnt to a crisp leaves from the slighter cool of indoors during the explosion that was Jun-gust.
The trend continued in July, heat and wild fires a constant hovering menace. With only one rain in all that time, one short rain, it meant August couldn’t be any different….or would it?
Surprise it’s a shower
Rain, a wonderful soaking, overnight rain, cooling us down, balancing the even harsher water restrictions that came into place that morning. Nothing but hand watering for brief hours every second day. While the shortage of rain is hard, and a shower won’t bring back the dried, the crisp, the fried in the garden, it did revive our love of summer.
It may have only washed away the grime and accumulated dust off windshields, glistened the leaves, and made the bird song seem a bit sweeter, but we are grateful once again.
The silence of the fans
For the first time I’m wishing that August would take longer, linger, loiter in the summer sun. It’s a slightly more moderate August this year, mellowed, golden, one that I think I could start to build a friendship with. The constant noise of the fans has stopped for a few days, nights quieter without the churning of over heated air.
With shimmering, shifting light falling between puffed up clouds that surf the sky, and rustle fields of grain. Soft warmth that flicks over skin, drowsy afternoons watching hummingbirds scour the Bee Balm, the flowers turning dark with decay. Bee’s busily showing off bottoms as they buzz, dipping into blossoms, birds chattering at dusk, and surprise cucumbers harvested straight from the vine, swelled with heat.
Sunflowers twisting strong stems to the light, blossoms arrayed in a palette full of autumn themed colors, like people, no two alike, a shade different, their swirled centers, showing off their knowledge of the golden ratio.
And a birth announcement
Through the kitchen window sighted, a second hatching of baby quail, so small they were balls of featherless fluff. One moved suddenly to grab a bug, and it turned out that the fallen leaves in the grass were baby birds. I’m in awe that they felt safe enough to share their family’s first outing with us. Aunts and Uncles trailed along, perched on branches and the fence, keeping watch over the precious tilting, jumping, energetic dozen of chicks, while the crows eyed them up greedily.
Taken through the kitchen window quite far away, we didn’t want to disturb the family outing, the babies are at the bottom of the composter.
Rain brings a respite
A needed break, a moment to catch our collective community breath, before the intensity of harvest starts in, before the summer goes for this year forever. And before the fair when even more people crowd the streets, fill the lots, and visit our little town down below.
So August pause, stop what you are doing, take a moment to reflect light on the lakes, the tree tops, the golden fields. Share with us your most gentle of warmth, glisten branches and kiss the flowers, stay with us as long as you can.
Mellowed and serene, be the August of our summer dreams.
Summer’s end is starting to curl back the pages of it’s journal, we’re anticipating days to be shorter, nights cooler. The harvest is so advanced that the grapes are ripening already, they say it might be the best year for wine they have ever seen. We’ve had peaches in July, and local farmer’s corn already, it makes me wonder if winter will be here early also.
Those days are far enough away that for now we shall relax, and try to breathe deep the moisture laden air from the rain.
I went to my very first Instagram meet, celebrating the BC day holiday last Monday! You know what, I had a really great time, I’m am so glad I went. Because my friend and I were the only ones who showed up, [that’s sad, all their hard work] we walked, talked, and took tons of photos which we shared on our respective Instagram feeds. Although I had to push myself out the door, [I’m rather introverted in person, happily extroverted online] it was good to do something new, and different. Now with one instameet in my camera bag, maybe the next one will be easier. Have you done anything like that? And do you make sure that you have a friend with you, or are you the brave venturer?
I hope that you find your own golden days of summer where you live to be equally enjoyable.
A reminder that The Light Laughed is posting on a summer schedule, and will show up on Fridays.
If you’d like to have sparkling posts from The Light Laughed delivered to your inbox every Friday, sign up here. and get the occasional free printable too.
Until next Friday then, take tons of pictures, wiggle your toes in the green grass, and blog on.
Jen @ The Light Laughed