summer's end

apples, sunflowers and the sound of raindrops as you're swimming

This is the season of the big cloudscapes. Towering mountains on the horizon. Sweeping masses of blue-white and dark grey, shadowed dips, glowing mounds, a dramatically scenic, ever-shifting and changing geography playing out above our heads.

The bushes are heavy and laden with orange berries. The goldenrod blooms in great profusion. There are red leaves on the ground and apples, red and yellow and warm from the sun lying in the grass. Roses are in their lushest season - an abundance of blooms, from the washed-out beauty that has been doing her magic for weeks now, to fresh young buds popping up, eager to take the stage.

The cygnets are still grey, but almost as big as their parents. They glide along near the shore, dipping their heads for long seconds to forage for food. People swim, but not as many as a few weeks ago - the sun might be out, but it is perceptively cooler and the water is cold to get in - though fine when I have adjusted.

I swim on an overcast day, sky grey, the horizon blurred, a dark mountain range of vapour pushing across the lake. Single drops fall and as I float on my back in the clear, shimmering green, I can hear the sound of the raindrops hitting the water, accompanied by the shushing and swaying of silt and seagrass shifting below me in the soft current. I can pratically feel the tension being drawn out of my body and diffused in this great, gentle body of water. I stay until I start shivering.

Back on the terrace, we watch the clouds on the opposite shore. The sunflowers have gone to seed, the fig tree is bearing fruit that has yet to turn sweet. The tomatoes are taking their time to ripen, as well. It is late August and their time is starting to run out.

The end of summer is tangible in everything.

I hope you’re heading into a golden, beautiful September. Remember to watch those cloudscapes.

Much love,

Anna