These days, early in the morning, I pull up the covers over my shoulders as cool air blows in through the open window. Later, the shower nozzle is turned just a little bit more to the warm side.
In the morning the dew is heavy on the car windshield. Swish swish go the wipers before I pull out of the driveway.
In the morning I turn on my seat heater for the ride to school, but still wear my sunglasses. In the afternoon I turn the air conditioner to full blast.
These days, in the evening, when I go out with my white bowl to pick a few raspberries, the light slants low and golden. The dahlias are finally blooming; they've been so slow this year. Tomatoes ripen and burst with improbable sweetness in my mouth.
These days Winchester Cathedral blooms once again with creamy petals that fall quickly in the heat of the afternoon. Soon there will be buds on my other rose bushes.
These days I remember the times spent with my grandchildren over the summer. There were together times, as well as a Nana date with each one. Mini golf, the petting zoo, go-carts, lunch out, complete with ice cream. Such fun.
These days, in the woods and gardens, in contrast to the rich and tawny shades that characterize autumn flowers, the autumn crocus (colchicum autumnale) blooms in pale shades more reminiscent of spring. I think it a bit out of place, like showing up at a serious event - a conference or memorial - in an airy sundress.
These days, from a brilliant blue sky, the sun dazzles, burnishing fading foliage with gold.
In the evening the drapes are drawn sooner than they were, and lamps are lighted against the darkness. Gone are the days of sitting outdoors while sunfire beats from the west. The melancholy of vanishing summer comes unexpectedly even as I embrace the energy of autumn.
These days pears, plums, and apples fill bowls in the kitchen. For a recent dinner party, I made a Pear Frangipane Tarte from a recipe found in the September issue of Victoria magazine. It was a straightforward recipe with a pretty and delicious result.
When my brother and his wife visited last weekend, Salted Caramel Pots de Crème from Laura Calder's Paris Express book were on the menu. The recipe made 6, so Tim and I enjoyed the last two on our own.
These days, typical of the transition between summer and autumn, are splendid and exquisite. Lauren deStefano says it's the "time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale."
These days...how are they with you?