My Bioregion: Late Summer

So...what did you do this summer? Did you get outside and actually enjoy the natural world?

In many parts of the country, the weather was just so hot that it wasn't conducive to anything but sitting in front of the air conditioner with a glass of iced tea. Today, at least in this part of the world, there are subtle signs that summer is coming to an end.

Yes, everything is still green. There is not a single leaf that has begun to turn and the goldenrod is still sending up its slender aromatic stalks, not a mass of yellow blossoms in sight. But gone is any trace of that new tender green that so captivates the senses after winter departs. At dusk, the thrumming of the cicadas is louder than ever. Perhaps they sense their time is short.

Late this afternoon, like many August days in the South, the clouds piled higher and higher. Thunder boomed in the distance and the rain shower slowly moved in, drenching the Earth and dispersing the sweet green fragrance of newly mown grass into the air. At dusk, the sky is still overcast and scatters the light evenly over the green of the backyard, obscuring any contrast. The green lawn melts into the green woods' edge. The tall pines sway in the evening breeze, cooler now, and a few straggler fireflies blink in the understory, their miniature lights conjuring up thoughts of carefree childhood summers. 

Any day now, the goldenrods will pop into bloom, the first few leaves on the sweetgums will change to red. Crows will start to gather in flocks, a "murder" of crows, it's called. Sumac leaves will fade to orange and autumn will slowly overtake us.

Wake up. Be aware of this one moment.

This one moment that bleeds into the next...and the next...and the next.

The moments of our lives.