Musings on a Late Summer Day

I sit drenched in the late September sun, my body absorbing the warmth as if charging my battery in preparation for the cold months ahead.  The cloudless sky is deep blue, the color that you only see this time of year.

I  close my eyes against the sun and consider the changes taking place around me.  The sun is sinking lower and lower behind the treeline.  The Cottonwood, having already dropped its ugly gray leaves, stands like a skeleton against the September sky.  I hear the call of a Red-bellied woodpecker high in an Oak, and the relentless scolding of Blue Jays in the distance, signaling the return of wintering raptors.  As if on cue, a Coopers Hawk glides silently into the Ash, sending Doves off with a frantic beating of wings.  Gathering food for Winter, a chipmunk squeaks as he scurries along the deck - with two Yorkies in hot pursuit!  How is it possible that summer passed so quickly?

Change.  I gaze at the garden.  Robust and productive all season, it now looks tired and worn - like the tattered wings of a butterfly on Zinnias that now tower over the garden.

Sunflowers bob their heads in the light breeze, ready to give up their seeds.

The Hummingbirds will soon be replaced by Juncos but until then, the Salvia stands tall and at the ready for the last of the residents and, with any luck, a migrant.

The Quinoa stalks are heavy with flower heads.

 Glorious in the sun, the Goldenrod continues to be loaded with honey bees.

The once colorful Echinacea flowers are now seed heads and irresistible to Goldfinches.  I hear them chirping as they work to pull the seeds but they dart away as I approach.

Butternut squash hang on vines that refuse to give up.

The fig tree, tangled in tomato vines, offers up an afternoon snack.

Red peppers peek through their thicket of leaves, assorted heirloom tomatoes show off their unique character, -

- and the tomatillos have filled out and split their husks.

Change.  The tunnels are set up and the fall crops have started to poke through the soil.  The once meandering sun now races across the sky; the long days will soon become long nights.   I already long for the endless days of summer when the sun refuses to set, and the nights filled with the song of katydids.  But, enough musings - there's salsa to make and tomatoes to roast; garden beds to clean up and garlic to plant!

Maya Angelou says, "If you don't like something, change it.  If you can't change it, change your attitude.  Don't complain."   I'll do my best.