August Has A Story All Its’ Own

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The rabbit patch in August, is not as tidy as it was in July.  Grass grows unhindered where it ought not to-and the garden is almost abandoned.  Vegetables are in the pantry now or packaged up in the freezer.  There are no sightings of bunnies  in the evenings and the nests of the summer birds are filling up with leaves.  The songs of the night are hushed-and last night, I smelled the corn drying in the heavy air.

If summer was a book, August would be the last chapter-the one read hurriedly, the conclusion of all that happened before it-But August has a story, all its’ own and it is a story worth telling.  There is too much to do and see in August, than to just spend it  waiting  for pumpkins.  There are the morning glory flowers, after all.  They are a cheerful lot-especially if they are the blue variety.  Many consider them as lowly as violets, but I love violets too.  When the yellow butterflies of August flutter around a morning glory vine, it is  an affair to notice. Morning glory, true to its’ name, makes a “big production” of the morning time and it is over by noon. The butterfly knows this and heeds the morning light as an invitation to  attend,with great haste.  The other flowers in the rabbit patch do not impose such  consequences-and the butterfly knows this too.

The “Quiet Garden” in August, is going slowly about its’ business these days.  New roses are more seldom now and there are barely enough of them to fill a vase these days, yet the serenity remains.  The “Quiet Garden” is as steadfast as a sister.

The flowers in the rabbit patch bear certain colors at certain times. Now , the landscape is shades of purple, yellow and blue.  The lantana sums it all up with its’ clusters of little flowers that are  delightful combinations of these colors of August.

I went out last night, in to the heavy air of late summer.  It was a still and moonless night.  I smelled the corn drying in the fields .  Just before the harvest, you can do so but only if the air hangs thick.  The thought “dawned upon me” that I spend a good deal of time, in August, thinking about September. I so love the time when chrysanthemums and pumpkins are scattered over the rabbit patch.  I love the world when you need a sweater in the morning and a light blanket at night.  The next thing I know, I am thinking of the first soup I will make and  the first fire Kyle will build in the wood heater -and then  I am well on the way to Thanksgiving and lighting candles.  

I must remember that August has a story  to tell all its’ own.  While the roses rest,  sapphire blossoms are growing on  vines. Evening comes a little quicker than it did in July, its’ heavy air filled with a soft melody and carrying the smell of corn in a field a mile away,  ready for harvesting.  Butterflies are on the wing like a silent commotion and make me remember that there is more to August, than just waiting for pumpkins.

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22 thoughts on “August Has A Story All Its’ Own

  1. I love the way you write! I can through your eyes the beauty of nature all around and the smells and sounds. I can get personal with each flower and tree as you describe their individual “personalities”.
    You have such a close relationship with nature and I enjoy your posts tremendously!

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  2. I was overdue a visit to the rabbit patch and I’m glad I visited today. Wow! As always, while reading your words, I’m “in” the country, seeing the butterflies after the seasons end of flowers. You can paint such vivid pictures with your words. A good writer captures “her” readers by pulling them into the story…and you my dear far exceed that! I feel that stagnate night air you speak of. I am looking forward to reading your posts for Sept and Oct…my favorite months of the year. A time when the air is cooler and the smell of the leaves are heavy. I can’t wait to read how you will describe that and more in the Rabbit Patch…thank you for taking us on these short journeys in our mind. You’re the best my friend!!

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  3. You had me from the title to the last word of this blog as you described the August I love. Though where I live, I’ve never smelled corn drying, everything else you record happens in my world as well. Usually when I read, I look for one true sentence that zips straight into my heart. In this case it was “The “Quiet Garden” is as steadfast as a sister” Perfect, perfect, perfect.

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  4. “The Quiet Garden is as steadfast as a sister.” I love that line! I have two sisters and several sister in laws who are now my sisters and steadfast is a great description of sisters and the August garden. Love this one too.

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  5. Michele, I am always rushing to get through the month of August so nice of you to remind me to slow down and enjoy every day and month. Your words are so beautiful when you describe nature I feel like I am able to see your rabbit patch first hand.

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