Summer, I Bid You Achoo!

We travel behind the tomato truck. It’s hot, it’s August, and the tomatoes are orange. The weeds along the lane are yellow now, crispy and golden like cornflakes.

The children fall asleep at the first turn, leaving their mother to admire the wispy cornfields growing green, competing with the walnut trees in the other field. The stalks are almost as tall as the trees now. They grow with the enthusiasm of youth. The walnut trees are older, quieter in color and form. They ignore corn’s contest, they’re too mature for such things. I wax poetic about the corn and it’s short, enthusiastic life.  I almost run over a chipmunk.

A dirt road later we pull into the drive. The farm dogs run to greet the city dog, the three little boys, and the weary mother with the runny nose. The fruit trees are dusty and the zinnias are faded. This is the season for farm visits.
Now.
While the corn is racing to the sky, while the tea is iced and the mud in the cow pasture is caked and cracked, now while the peaches are cobbler worthy.

August is the month for sunshine and sweat, for facing the summer head-on with same dedicated determination of the growing corn. The corn knows summer is short. Soon it will be just a memory wrapped in a sweater with a side of hot chocolate. The perspiration is precious, the tomato truck a treasure, and everything is seasonal…except perhaps, cold viruses and Kleenex. 

Bless you, Summer. Bless you.

14 thoughts on “Summer, I Bid You Achoo!

  1. Very, very nice. Favorite line: “a memory wrapped in a sweater with a side of hot chocolate”. Store up several for that very purpose while you're on the farm this week savoring a few of those cobbler-worthy peaches.

    Like

  2. And that's why chipmunks hate corn…

    But I will always, always love peach cobbler.

    And summer.
    (Come to think of it, fall is not too shabby, either.)

    Feel better.
    And please pass the tissues.

    Like

  3. oh, to see august through your gorgeous lens. i suppose this, too, is a choice, but sometimes i'm perspiring too much to choose well. 🙂

    love that last photo–reminds me why i need to meet you in actual real reality. party on, my dear girl.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s