Stepping outside this morning, I could see my breath.  What a welcome sight!  I'm ready for some days where the fresh air is not so heavy and can be welcomed inside.  The roadsides are a riot of yellow flowers these days--the Summer comes in and goes out on yellow flowers.  The wingstem, as I have learned it is called, is absolutely abundant and so very tall.  It seems to be everywhere, with the goldenrod waiting just beneath.

I have come to love the anticipation that times like this bring, to love the last little bit of things.  Perhaps, it is the time when we are most able to reflect upon the recent past and its joys, just as we are about to bid it goodbye.  It makes me think about the end of pregnancies, when I was so excited to leap over the next crossroads, and a little sad to be at the end of something that would never come again.  I always had a moment of very conflicted emotions at the thought of the current baby losing his or her position.  Oh, there goes the melancholy again. ;-) 

I like Summer when it is softer, when there is a chill in the air, when things are new and green or when they are tired and worn.  If I could build a little hut of some kind in the Mount Rogers High Country, I would.  It would please me to feel that chill all Summer long, and to be whipped by the winds in Winter.  Today is Nature School, even though we trekked out to see the eclipse on Monday.  We'll go to the Snail Place, where we haven't been since early July, and see what's happening there. 

I'm sewing this week, having been given a little break from canning for the moment.  Pears are waiting in baskets, but it's time some people had some new clothes to welcome this new weather.  I hope it sticks around this time.