The gentle innocence is gone now. All the sweet girlish charm, the light footed dances across the budding greens are only a memory. Like the delicious and delightful days of young love, the season has matured into a force to be reckoned with. We have the power behind the woman coming forth now. Demanding our attention.
Lounging on the fresh green grass is only a memory, along with strawberry kisses, and sparkling waters. The Matron of Moisture has been withholding her favors, and the grass is scorched and bone dry. The leaves hang limp on their branches as the day progress. It grows glaringly hotter as the sun marches west. Lakes have lost their crystal sparkle and lie sluggish and thickening...waiting the much needed freshness of rain.
I haven't a name for the Contessa of "now". I can't relate to her as I do to the powers of spring,autumn and winter. She is foreign to me. I understand and accept the fury that can be winter in this fairly northern piece of the midwest that I call home.I know how to deal and how to play to stay in the game. For me, the seasons of spring and autumn are times of pure joy. Nothing about them is troubling or foreign. But NOW? These 'dog days' of summer? This thickening and ripening time? This 'time' that can pull you down to your knee and have you begging for mercy....this I have no place for. 'This' season I observe from a safe distance, not comfortable with it's intensity. And don't think it's that I don't understand...just the opposite. I understand all too well. Fire is about consumption. Its intent is just that. To consume. You, me, the vegetation everything, life as we know it. Yes, I know ALL about fire.
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11 comments:
AMEN. Very well said, my dear!
Like you, Finn - I'm holding on (barely) for the cool comfort and beautiful colors of the fall that is to come. Meantime you'll find me a the nearest fan *s*
Ah, Finn at her best story telling.
Well said Ms. Finn :O)...I am ready for fall :O), my favorite time of year!
I have 6 pumpkins ready to go out for decorations off the volunteer pumpkin vine in the compost pile :O)...
Cooler temps and fall decorations, just the best :O)
You have such a beautiful way with words. The pictures you paint with them are vivid and real. You should write a book.
I agree with wholeheartly with you the picture these words have painted. I am counting the days until the beauty of autumn begins, those crisp clear days make my heart sing!!!
Echos of my heart and spirit...the hot summer days drag me to my knees...Such wonderful word pictures you conjure, my friend!!
I got my 'pieces from Finn's scrapbag' today!!! Yeaaaaa! I love them!! Just perfect...and most definitely will find their way into a wallhanging. :> Thank you so much, Finn!!
I love the way you describe the seasons. Oddly enough, I do love the season of now -- the heat, the long days and the silky nights that are a caress to the skin. I love spring and autumn too (not all that fond of winter truth to be told) but for me, summer is when I come alive. Isn't it interesting how different people react to the seasons?
Beautiful...and I have to agree. The only redeeming feature of those mid summer days is a beach....and midwest does not sound like a beach is an option! Keep cool, love your play blocks, Tracey
I agree with you about midsummer. It is just not my time of year, even though summers are pretty mild where I live. I really prefer the shorter days of fall and spring and the coziness of winter. Maybe because the other three seasons are better quilting weather?
Hear, hear! Summer is by far my least favorite season. You've said the same thing but in a beautiful, creative, poetic way. The longing for autumn has begun. And our weather has been nothing like yours has been. The last couple weeks have been wonderfully cool, cloudy mornings, with the clouds disappearing late enough to prevent it from getting too unbearably hot.
Hi Finn!
Summer in the north woods can be cruel in its intensity. Decieving in the lovely dappled sunlight throught the canopy of leaves, that just after noon can flatten a healthy outdoorsperson. Summer elsewhere might be more forgiving. But now you have me thinking like a lover about fall.
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