The First of the Last

Today is the last day of July.  Although it’s never good to wish away time, by July 31, I am scribbling “good riddance” in the margins of my calendar.  The lovely month of August is no longer in the rear view mirror; it’s coming up alongside the car, soon to overtake us.

At The Coop and at home, August is full of birthdays.  Birthdays are nice little ways to remember loved ones and write biographical blog posts about them.  I have three, four, or five little mementos planned.

August weather generally delights with clear and dry days, in spite of the sad melancholy in the air.  Please hold while I wipe a little tear from the corner of my eye right now and reflect on all those dusty summer roads still untraveled.  Will I get to the Blue Hill Peninsula?  Will I get to the Union Fair?  Will I get to Reid State Park?  Will I get to Webber’s Ice Cream stand again?

Will I see some of the people I made tentative plans with in May?  I hope so.

What of the August garden?  I’ve been eating the first of the last things from home; cucumbers and string beans every day for lunch on a bed of passing spring lettuce.  Uncle Bob and I looked over the corn on Saturday and wondered what our organic ears will be like.  I whispered into one of them “You’d better be good.”

What of the sunflowers?  So far, only the “Autumn Beauty” is blooming.  Will my “Ring of Fire” sunflowers be as dramatic as their name?  What if they’re not?

Will we eat “Small Shining Light” watermelon?

According to my Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, August is “marked by majestic dignity or grandeur.”  That sounds about right.  Yes, out of the melancholy ditch and into the bright light and grandeur of August.

Here’s to the end of hot and humid July; welcome to the majestic dignity of August!  As an old friend from college is known to say:

“Bring it.”

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