Last of Summer

There is something in the air. I can feel it every now and then. It’s an edge of coolness, a dry rustle of the leaves, a last loud symphony of cicadas. Out on the back deck, yellow leaves flutter down one by one and walnut hulls drop down with noisy thuds. August is spending itself down and giving out its last summer hurrah.

As we walk at the park, the wildflowers are in full array. I count at least eight different kinds in just one small space. Each plant is taking over as much ground as it can, spilling over extravagantly with blooms. And yet, already, the leaves are curling up, changing colors, leaving a looming shadow of what is to come. Grasses heavy with flowers and seeds reach over my head, grasping for the last sun of summer. Nature knows what is coming around the corner.

As the humidity clears out and the sky returns to that clear blue, I find myself soaking in these days of longer light and warmth. Too soon, the hours of daylight will shorten and the cold will drive me indoors. My mind is focused and I see what I still need to get done before the season changes. I spend hours outdoors scraping and painting. I check that project off my list. I trim and clear brush. Another project checked off the list. I fill my shelves with home canned goods. Check. I use my bike as much as I can. Check.

But already, I feel a certain melancholy creeping in. The burst of beauty and growth that are part of the current landscape remind me that there is an end. That ripeness brings on rot. That life brings death. As nature gives up its harvest and fruit, I accept it greedily, knowing it will soon be gone. That’s why I like these dog days of August. They bring the feast before the famine.

Before long, I will close the windows and doors, retreat from the front porch and back deck, and remember the scarves hanging on the coat rack. The garden will be put to rest, the life eked out of leaves and plants. The air will feel different, as nature shuts down.

Until then, I’m eating all the fresh vegetables and fruits that I can, making exuberant salads, biting into those peaches, picking cherry tomatoes off the vine. This week, I even came up with a new salad dressing to add to my repertoire. It’s perfect for these late summer outdoor meals. I hope to enjoy a few more before summer dwindles away.

Lime Chili Dressing

½ c. olive oil

6 T. lime juice

2 T. finely grated ginger

1 t. minced garlic

1 T. maple syrup

¼ t. chili powder

¼ t. red chili flakes

¼ t. sweet chili sauce

Put all the ingredients in a jar. Mix well.