Did you ever notice how July lingers and August sprints forward with alacrity? Is it because you want summer to linger a while more, or is it that you hope to squeeze every bit good weather and vacation out of it before returning to the grind? Or maybe it's that kids start school again, or at least get ready to start school again? It does feel to me like one day it's August 1st and then next it's the 31st.
So today I slow down a bit. I get up later, spend more time cleaning up flower beds, and think at length about what to do about breakfast: granola or cinnamon roll? And only after breakfast do I go to the downtown farmers market, which puts me there just as the crowds swell, with shoppers and protesters. It's hard to tell who is there for what reason. I suppose my blueberries and flowers are, along with me, momentarily, part of the protest. It is past noon by the time I get back home.
And it is late afternoon when Ed suggests a walk in our local park. Not too buggy. I am grateful.
This, to me, is a day at a crawl. Am I deliberately slowing down summer? Seems I'm going against the current. Maybe slowing down is something you should reserve for the dead of winter. But for this early August weekend, I'm giving it a try.
Let me post some photos from my slow-moving day.
(a delicate double)
(three yellow lily plants in three shades of yellow)
(these guys are not afraid, as my hand weaves around them, snipping away spent lilies)
(bees do like day lilies, but I think other pollinators like them better; bees go crazy, on the other hand, around my hyssop blooms and they're pretty attracted to these heliopsis heads as well)
(breakfast: granola won)
(at the market: my flower-growing friend and her granddaughter)
(shoppers and protesters and tourists and me)
(the last blueberries of the year)
(back at the farmette, Ed picks the first peach from our young peach orchard)
With so much love....
