The fields lay still in the hottest of days as August builds to the final remnants of the summer. Bees buzz heavy in the vibrant day, catching every last bit of pollen on their small legs, before returning to their hives. The days grow lazy, with plenty of naps from all the animals, hiding under the large oak trees, and waiting for any slight breeze to break the heavy dullness of the long days. Any time spent on walks outside come either at night, or in the early morning. Dew wets the hems of our clothing in those early morning walks. If the basset girls dare to request a trip outdoors in the late afternoon, it is always along the meandering creek.
Bare feet kick along the cool water, and stones can be skipped as they frolic, teaching the newest and youngest of them the right laces to smell out any little creatures. The ducks will join us on these walks, then settle into the shade under the eaves of the house, while inside the tap, tap, tap of our keyboards plays time to the tracing arc of the sun in the sky. Writing comes easy on these days when there is a need to escape the lingering summer. We all feel the need for the changing of tides. Fall should soon come upon us, and we cannot wait for the mornings where our breath clouds the air, the pumpkins fill the garden, and the mist hangs eerie and mystical in the orchard.
Comments