zucchini and sunflowers
There is a certain sadness that comes to me in the month of September. I start scrambling to find something to do before the cold wind arrives, something that makes me feel alive the way summertime does. I try to remind myself how lucky we've been as our outside temperature continues to feel like July, but I can't help from feeling very aware that the entire landscape is about to change.
I could write a thousand love notes for summer and in between the sentences you would find that my love reaches far beyond an affair with the warm weather. In the summer months, all of the roads are clean and dry. You can walk or travel by car anywhere you please, even if you don't end up leaving your home, you still know a world of possibility exists outside. Trees are big and act as curtains to protect you from the heat, little bugs catapult themselves into plants, birds put on a symphony and everything is very very alive.
Even when you cry in the summer, the sun dries your tears before they can reach your chin.
I could write a thousand love notes for summer and in between the sentences you would find that my love reaches far beyond an affair with the warm weather. In the summer months, all of the roads are clean and dry. You can walk or travel by car anywhere you please, even if you don't end up leaving your home, you still know a world of possibility exists outside. Trees are big and act as curtains to protect you from the heat, little bugs catapult themselves into plants, birds put on a symphony and everything is very very alive.
Even when you cry in the summer, the sun dries your tears before they can reach your chin.
While I was in Vernon visiting family, my schedule was filled with beautiful summery things. We took residence in a house my cousin was dog-sitting for, while the owners were away. They had a big backyard, a swimming pool and a healthy garden where we picked zucchini's that came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. One zucchini in particular looked like a dinosaur and the dog, Diesel, looked like an Oreo cookie.
On day two of our stay, we hiked Silver Star Mountain. As we climbed, wild flowers appeared like giant paintbrushes and all of the colors blended together with the melody of bees. We stopped along the way to pick strawberries that were smaller than my pinky finger but my god they were tastier than any grocery store fruit. I keep wishing the strawberry stain had remained on my palm.
Now I am home and outside is where I should be. I can go pick the tomatoes in our garden, water the flower beds and marvel at how bright and warm everything still is. I know a bout of intense crying will occur when the last of the flowers dissolve into the dirt -- but that time has not come yet.
Wearing: Dress & Sunhat & Shirt & Shorts • Value Village || Floral Backpack • gift from mum
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