I love a pumpkin spice latte and a cozy sweater the much as the next person. I love a crisp fall day with yellow leaves crunching underfoot, I love inky skies with bright stars, but I have to admit, I absolutely love summer. Summer, and all it brings.
In summertime the air is soft, leaves bright and glowing green. I love the pace of summer. Coffee on the deck in the morning. Cocktails at night. Floaty summer clothes and walking barefoot in the grass. The ocean – it has a different smell in the summer, richer, if possible, more briny. How delicious when the sun actually warms you… to.. the.. bone. A porch chair and a glass of iced tea with a friend. And even when it is a little stormy and windy, the air is warm, the rain-showers short, skies are clear by noon.
My flowers. AH! I love them. I plant. I watch. I wait. I try to remember their names. I go out and talk to them. Gather them, bring them into the house. I smile every time I see them. Always something unexpected, the richness of the reds. The little yellow center of a flower. Stalky delphiniums that stand taller than me. Unfurling peonies. Pergolas weighted with vining leaves and heavy blossoms. The scent of the roses that fill the house. The streaks of red on the petals of a yellow nasturtium. I slow down to notice it all.
Tender new vegetables, replanted carefully, dirt on my face, in my shoes, under my fingernails result in onions for salads. Kale for my soups. Carrots with my grandson. “What is this Weston?” I ask as I show him how to pull a tender little carrot from the earth.
“A bug?” I stifle a laugh and his eyes go wide, “A CARROT!!” he shouts. We wash it with the hose, the hose, another summer joy, and he eats it right there.
I love a warm August afternoon with friends. Listening to music, windows wide against a hot kitchen, curtains flutter. Using our harvest to make pickles. Sweet bread and butter pickles – jars and jars – gifted to neighbors, friends and family.
I will welcome fall. I love digging in, nestling in blankets and books and tea. Yet, as I look out the window and start to see the faintest of yellow in the trees, and the buds on my fall season ripe and ready to bloom, I hesitate. It is time to go outside, to work in my garden and enjoy these last weeks of summer. Maybe host a dinner party on my deck.