August is singing the blues. We can hear it in the cadence of the locusts, crooning daily in their ancient courtship. We hear it in the deep-throated chorus of the bull frogs. Their scratchy, rhythmic calls at night can be heard above the drone of the air-conditioner in a house closed tightly against the heat, still heavy in the night air.
August is singing the blues. It is my least favorite month of the year. The early flurry of summer activities and the rapid growth of the garden has slowed to a crawl. The flowers have reached their peak, their colors are slowly fading. Although some fierce pinching back and trimming will invite second or even third blooms, we all know the best show in town is over.
August is singing the blues. The cone flowers are still in play, with swarms of bees and butterflies drinking their sweet nectar. We watched a swallowtail enjoying a late afternoon feeding frenzy, dangling, precariously, from blossom to blossom on the butterfly bush. The cabbage moths dance deep into the afternoon, dancing in mid-air, swirling and twirling in their counter-clock waltz.
August is singing the blues. The brown-eyed Susans are reaching for the sun and bringing color back into the landscape. I look at them and contemplate setting the table with the Brown-Eyed Susan dishes that were Tom’s mother’s. Nature always serves as a reminder of what lies within, doesn’t it?
Yes, August is singing the blues. It seems that everyone is either far away on vacations or hidden inside where curtains are drawn and glasses of iced tea sweat. I long for days of front porches and a game of tag before the street lights come on.
August is singing the blues. It is a good month for a long, slow read and for daydreams; the kind you had when you were a kid. The ones that took you to the moon and back, on an exotic safari, or maybe just around the block on your bike. The kind of dreams that left you yearning for your best friend to return from summer camp.
August is singing the blues. But, wait! Nestled deep, in among the spent blossoms of Six Hills Giant Nepeta and top-heavy Endless Summer hydrangea, the mums are stirring. I heard them humming softly as they soaked in the August sun. I do hate to rush the seasons, but, I declare, I heard them, humming. It sounded a bit like the Tempos promising to see me in September.
Maybe August isn’t singing the blues after all. Maybe it’s just Sir Elton guessing why they call it the blues.
Penny, This is so darn fine. I Love it. You’ve called up some summer thoughts and feelings as I, myself, was just thinking about how we seem to be heading into the turn towards fall. It’s in the air already, I swear.
From the cadence of the locusts in their ancient courtship to the counter-clockwise waltz of the cabbage moths, this is one Great post. My reaction to this sort of thing: I wish I’d written it. 🙂
Good tunes, too.
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Oh, Teresa, that is so very kind and generous of you to say. It is in the air, isn’t it? Barely perceptible, but, there. A change.
Thank you. You made my day!
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I love all these summer scenes you have magically painted for me with your words. You have captured the scenes and sounds of summer so beautifully in your photos as well as your words.
Here it is winter but the days are lengthening and I can sense spring knocking on the door – still winter will have more to say yet I am sure!
I love all the play of our seasons.
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Thank you so much Marilyn. I appreciate it.
In winter, we get that tease. That sense of spring coming and we are so ready for it. Won’t this be fun seeing the change of seasons playing out in our different hemispheres? I love it too.
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I always loved the Spring, everything waking up, blooming, and the warmth of the Summer and never liked the Fall, everything fading away….but, these humid Summers are making me look forward to a nice cool Fall, lovely colors, something about the heat that make you look at things differenty. I’m just getting old and can’t take the heat….
Your post made me Smile, beautiful as always…thanks for sharing your thoughts..
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Oh, I know what you mean, Sharon, though I’ve always loved fall, the colors, the crispness in the air. This heat and humidity, I think has had an affect on everyone around here, especially when the only way around it is to stay indoors. Let’s hope for some pleasant weather soon.
Aw, that’s nice to hear. I’m glad you are smiling and you are welcome.
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What a beautiful song – a poetic evocation of the end of summer. I could pick up the stiffling, almost stagnant energy. Sounds like a time to conserve energy indeed. It doesn’t seem so long ago that you were getting impatient for spring! I am appreciating the freshness of our winter/spring transition that’s happening now, especially after reading your late summer posts of heat and storms. Be glad for the blues!
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What a nice comment, Juliet. Thank you so much. I know. I was fretting about the snow and looking for daffodil tips and now I’m peaking around for mums, a fall flower here. I think the violent storms have taken the best out of many of us this year. I will be glad for the blues! yes!
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I know what you mean about August. My thirty years of teaching has me feeling like summer is over and I should be getting busy. Those old rhythms are hard to change. However, as beautifully as you put it, it is difficult for me here on Prince Edward Island to do anything but want to be outside enjoying the sea air. I will think about the end of summer after I get home. Meanwhile, I will enjoy your lovely comments and get on with my vacation. After all, there is so much “scope for imagination” here.
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I’m sure all teachers feel that pull of the classroom in August, Janet, even retired ones. Enjoy the fresh sea air and wherever the scope of your imagination takes you as you continue to explore Prince Edward Island.
I imagine it is a bit cooler there – actually, it is here, too. Not quite as oppressive. Enjoy your August adventure.
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What a poetic post Penny! All it takes to get rid of August blues for me after a Chicago summer is that first crisp Autumn-like day, however, after a cool summer in West Clare I’m not sure what will do it for me!
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Thank you, Janet. Even the shound of “crisp Autumn-like day” is enough to bring a smile right now. Maybe when you’ve been back here for a week or two of this never-ending heat and humidity, that crispness will seem more inviting. It sounds like West Clare had its own climate issues this year.
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Ireland had its coldest July on record! I wouldn’t trade it for the heat and humidity though, it’s easier to keep warm than to cool off.
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