August is one of my favorite times. It’s hot, but there might be the odd fresh morning that lets you know autumn is around the bend.
My running route is packed with summer. Over the past two weeks, all of these signs have begun to fray, and beautifully so. There are late blackberries, some scorched and some still plump.
Some are still sour. We’ve got a good long season here.
Among the thorns, I heard a rustle. She was hung up by her foot. When I let her go, she flew to the little creek immediately– thirsty but okay.
Along the way, the true glory of August is on display. It’s easy to run and be cheerful despite the heat. (Full disclosure: I LOVE running in the heat. Unsure why, but it feels better, like hot yoga provided by Mother Nature)
Everywhere I looked, flowers. Some people call them weeds, but that’s not true.
Things are past their peak, but still radiant. The colors are stunning, and there’s a desperate quality to the lower leaves on all the plants. They’re sun-scorched but defiant, pushing up blooms that are visible at a distance. Summer beauty is persistent.
The goldenrod and purple glory is just starting. Up next: September, when we start thinking cozy thoughts.
Off to run. Hope your neighborhood is filled with color, too.
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