Before We Forget August

This afternoon we were sitting on the front porch, basking in the unseason- ably cool breeze (it was 72 for a high and it could be 50 or a little below tonight) when the lawn chair I was sitting in broke. Rather, a pin that held the legs and arms to the frame did. I'm not sure how old the chair is--we bought them the summer after we moved here in 2001, I think. Plain old metal fatigue. It must be some kind of omen when the lawn chair breaks, like summer is ending. Cool weather kind of reinforces that idea, so before August is just a memory, here are some photos of other flowers that we enjoyed in the back yard.

These pom-shaped composites bear seeds that the gold finches like, and I think that's why Lois and Bob planted them. Most of the garden we inherited from them was old-fashioned, or prairie plants, or varieties that would attract butterflies or birds. Speaking of butterflies, the Monarchs seem to be either hatching or arriving. We have seen several floating lazily around the neighborhood lately, and one followed me home at noon when I returned from Tai Chi practice on campus.

The phlox we inherited is very old fashioned, and unfor- tunately it seems to be host to some kind of virus that stunts a lot of the plants before they can bloom. We have pulled up the affected ones, and a few, such as these in the side border, have continued to bloom.

Just before the chair broke this afternoon, I was wondering where August had gone. The days, weeks, months and years seem to be speeding up on me, and yet when I look at what I've accomplished, I don't see a whole lot. Perhaps I've spent too much time "wool-gathering" as my mother used to call my day dreaming habit. But it's hard not to stop and savor these waning days of summer. Soon enough it will be time to rake the leaves and check the supply of snow melt. I can wait for that.