Summer ends, in my mind at least, when the calendar
page is turned to September.
Our weather remains tiresomely hot and humid.
Rain over the weekend filled Big Creek which days before had been reduced to a mere trickle.
The air is so heavy with moisture that a bloom of mildew has appeared on the wood furniture in the basement room. I have scrubbed with a solution of vinegar in a little water with a slosh of tea tree oil added, dragged in the big fan and set it up downstairs.
The soybeans are enjoying the heat and moisture--planted a bit late in the season but thriving.
Red Knockout roses hang heavy with rain.
The venerable pear tree has produced a light crop this year.
It is not a season for fruit and berries--perhaps blighted and set back by the severe cold of January.
The daylilies have passed their season of exuberant bloom, but
each day several still raise a vividly colored head.
Each autumn I grope for the correct names of the yellow flowers in the north field.
Coreopsis of some variety?
I should have brought some of these in and searched through my wildflower books for a match.
I was more concerned with protecting my camera from the drizzle.
Jim and our son Howard in about 9:30 PM on Tuesday completing the long haul across country.
I warned Jim that the two weeks of his absence had done the garden no good.
We went over today and he viewed the weeds with resignation, clumping through the damp clay soil to salvage a mess of okra, a few tomatoes, a nice haul of green peppers.
He hadn't much to say about my painting of the third bedroom at the other house.
I was quite fired up to defend my project--the room is the one I have claimed as a study, etc.
He was more interested in my other project--more about that in my next post.