Time Marches

As August quickly draws to a close, I reached for one of my late mom's books, Stillmeadow Sampler (J.B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia and New York, 1959, pages 153-154), to see what Mom's favorite author, Gladys Taber, had to say about it. In the "Summer" section, she wrote, "As August draws to a close, evenings are cool.  Autumn is already in the air.  The signs are small, but a country eye sees them."  The signs are indeed there, including the steady decline of daylight.  The other morning, the alarm went off and I was sure that I must have set it incorrectly, for it was still dark out.  Then, when taking my evening walk a few nights later, I nearly got caught in darkness because the sun sets so much earlier now.  The grass doesn't grow as quickly and the weeds seem to have claimed their stake. The leaves and vegetation have that slightly tired look.  Our marigolds are getting that late-summer spindly look to them. The produce evolves, with zucchini in abundance.  I have to admit that I'm somewhat sad, for I wait and wait and wait each year for spring and summer to roll around, only to find them slipping away ever so quickly.  As Glady Taber wrote, "Summer is already walking the path to yesterday."