This blossom, seen at Butchart Gardens on Monday, leaves no doubt that summer is hanging around. We've had no rain to speak of for two months now. The leaves are turning brown and crisp from lack of water, not autumn's mellow cooling. Still, the lovely sun lingers like a beloved guest and we're not wishing her away.
Come evening we're glad to embrace autumn a little bit. There's a definite chill in the air once that sun slips below the horizon. A cup of tea and a cookie or two makes for a cozy treat.
My paternal grandfather gave us the teapot for our wedding. I think of him each time I use it. It has an autumn look to me, as do these tea cups that Tim's mother received for her wedding and later gifted to me.
Emily Dickinson has some words to say about this season of not quite summer, not yet autumn:
As Summer into Autumn Slips
As Summer into Autumn slips
And yet we sooner say
"The Summer" than "the Autumn," lest
We turn the sun away,
And almost count it an Affront
The presence to concede
Of one however lovely, not
The one that we have loved --
So we evade the charge of Years
On one attempting shy
The Circumvention of the Shaft
of Life's Declivity.
Joining in with Happy Hour at Craftberry Bush, a fun blog with lots of creative ideas.