Summer Daze

The blackbirds are flocking.  I noticed it last week, on my walk through the yard, under the trees, to hang a bird-feeder up at the feeding station.  It startled me, even though I love this time of year, and the huge flocks of birds that will come with it.  It startled me because my grandma told me what her dad (my great-grandpa Smith) told her-- the earlier the birds start flocking, the earlier winter will arrive.

(Not yet), that little voice inside my head whispers.

Emma & Pyewacket

 

The youngest, Emma, turned 14 this July.  She has shot up almost taller than me, she no longer smells like a kitten (she did for the longest time), she is growing breasts and transforming into a beautiful young woman.

 

(Not yet), that little voice inside my head whispers.

 

 

The large backyard flower garden is the only one I didn't re-mulch this year; I just salted down the pebble path that runs through it and sort of let nature take it's course.  As much as I loved how it looked, all sharp and dramatic with black mulch, the reality of keeping it this way struck home with the dozens of 40lb bags of mulch we hauled in to do the other garden spots.  My back and various other muscles complained loudly.  The garden has been over-joyed with its new-found freedom.  Purple cone flowers have sprouted in amongst everything, being all friendly and amiable; the black eye-susans have spread to twice their area, and I have found (to my delight) that strawberry plants are happily mingling with everything, throughout the entire garden.  It's working.  Everyone is getting along.  That's how it's suppose to be.

 

 

I added inspiration to our covered back porch this week-- a space that is a family favorite hot-spot.  We eat here, cats gather here, we hang out, we play, we talk, we rest.  We have gathered on this porch with friends, alone with a cup of coffee in the wee hours of the morning, and in the dusk of many summer evenings in a chattering huddle with each other:.

 

 

 

Enjoy the last dog days of summer...Embrace them and sear the memories into your mind.  It's coming to a close faster than we realize.

 

(Not yet), that little voice inside my head whispers.

 

Breakfast Time: Baby, Fox, Pyewacket, Basil, & Bast