Letting Go of Summer

The clouds the last two days have been beautiful. A dark gray blankets the sky, with fluffy, lighter gray clouds piling up at times as they drift in from the west. I just sit and watch. So many days have passed with no rain, no clouds, no wind. The grass was drying up. The flowers were drooping from thirst. In just twenty-four hours, the lawn is greener and the flowers look refreshed. Now lightning is flashing across dark skies. Thunder rumbles. Feels like fall is fast approaching.

I started cleaning the garden yesterday evening. The cucumbers have pretty much finished up. We ate cucumbers until we couldn't eat anymore the last month and a half. The green peppers are still producing. They've been on the small side, but I think that's actually because they're from organic seeds, and they've not been touched by pesticides at all. This is the size they're supposed to be, I imagine. And the tomatoes are on their last legs. I'm still getting one or two every couple of days, but I'm pretty sure the ones that are green are going to stay green. Maybe I'll get a couple more over the next few weeks, which would be great. I do still have some herbs going strong, some basil and rosemary. Perhaps a basil, tomato and mozzerella sandwich is in order for tomorrow.

It's hard to let go of summer. In a small way, though, it's always good to say good-bye to the hot, humid days and nights. The crisp, breezy days and nights of fall contain their own energy that offers a chance for slowing down, resting, both of which being exactly what the soul needs this time of year.