Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul… but I must confess that I love you only because you are a prelude to my beloved October.
Peggy Tony Horton
I just want to state for the record that in spite of all my bitching about the heat, I do in fact love summer. I love how the growing season returns with an explosion of light, colors, scents and sounds. I love firing up my grill. And most importantly, I love that it’s no longer winter!
If fact, when May and June arrive I want to stand up and sing:
But when the calendar flips over to the month of August, and the blast furnace temperatures that come with it arrive, my joy wanes dramatically. I don’t do well in heat and I never have. I fortunately have never suffered from heat stroke, I have had heat exhaustion numerous times. Sometimes bad enough to land in the ER. So heat and I are not good friends.
I’ve heard that residents of Southern California talk about “June gloom”, and Colorado Rockies fans talk about “June swoon”. Well, I suffer from “August agony” (I couldn’t find anything to rhyme with August). I don’t go out much during the month of August, not even to lounge in my hammock. I pretty much just go from my air-continued car to my air-conditioned house. Truthfully, I enter into a kind of hibernation during this time.
But once the fiery crucible of August has given way to the more moderate temperatures of September, I’m able to get back outside to enjoy the outdoor activities I love: gardening, bicycling, walking and lounging in my hammock. My happiness quickly returns.
But that happiness is tempered by the fact that some dramatic changes have occurred in the outside world during my month-long hibernation, and there are now signs that summer is near the end all around.
The days are shorter and the shadows are longer. It’s much quieter than it was in early summer. The songs of the birds have been stilled, and in their place is the rather unlovely buzz of cicadas and the chirp of crickets.
The world even smells differently.
There are certain wildflowers that, when in bloom, signal summer’s impending demise. Here on the eastern side of Colorado the most obvious harbinger of autumn is when “rabbitbrush”, also known as “chamisa”, begins to bloom.
I’ve been on a couple of bike rides since the temperatures have returned to more bearable levels. Below are some photos from these rides.
Back at the Vintage homestead, I have become very aware that the lifespan of this year’s garden is now measured in weeks instead of months. This is indeed a sad thought.
While the late summer blooming plants are still strutting their stuff, they are showing signs of fading. Meanwhile, autumn bloomers such as asters, sedums and salvia “azurea” are entering the stage to perform their roles in the garden’s grand finale.
The late season grasses are also getting into the action: they are sending out their seed plumes and their foliage is starting to turn from green to red, orange or yellow.
The Salvia azurea seen above has a real tendency to flop all over its neighbors. Which is fine. A transformation comes over most gardeners in late summer and autumn: there is no longer the need for the garden to look so tidy. It’s ok for plants to lean against and mingle with each other.
While autumn is my favorite season, there is no doubt that a strong sense of melancholy comes over me when the end of summer arrives. I’ve spent a great deal of time in my garden this year, and I’ve enjoyed most every minute of it. I have never liked good-byes, yet I must soon bid adieu to the garden.
How about you? How does the end of summer impact you?
