Wednesday, August 15, 2012

August 15, 2012

A most unexpected nippiness greeted me early this morning in the garden... I immediately felt it—a prickling sensation down my spine, and instantly knew what it meant: The wheel of time turning again; seasons come and seasons go. And there I was, picking little shreds and patches of time in the midst of my garden. The hot blazing days of August crinkle and hiss and enfold us like a burning veil; and yet I can already detect the ancient face of Old Father Winter leaning against the horizon behind the far mountain to the West. He is laughing at me I know it.


And the sun—big and round and crimson as I have never seen before shines ruby upon fields of wheat and corn, and over busy roads on my way to work. Fire season, smoky, soupy air and a city that smells like a fireplace is what we’re living this summer. Rain, and the northwest winds are so much needed.


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