Farewell to Summertime

"In the fields of summer, I will dance away with you..." Sirenia, "Glades of Summer"

This has been a beautiful summer. I have swum, explored, gardened, and dreamed. Now it's time to say goodbye and welcome fall. Here are some images from my summer.

Water Nymph

Summer is the perfect time to be a water nymph.

water nymph7 by NerySoul, http://nerysoul.deviantart.com/

Caught by the Kelpie

Rain Approaching Hathersage Moor by Andy Hemingway

It has been a while since I've shown my face here, but I have good reason; I've been chasing the Muse through the rain. So much rain has fallen here for July that I'm beginning to wonder if I somehow slept through summer and now it's Autumn... but I don't care either way. I'm busy reveling in the rain and the newest form of my muse: the Kelpie.




I've a million ideas for a painting of this wonderful beast. There are many wonderful depictions of the Kelpie, and here are some of my favorites.

Boy on White Horse by Theodor Kittelsen, via Wikipedia

The Nix as a Brook Horse by Theodor Kittelsen, via Wikipedia

Now, I'm off follow my muse while I listen to a siren of a different sort...

Fireflies

photo by T. Kiya, source Wikimedia commons

I will tell the fireflies
To light up the night all around you
I will make the darkness light
I'll paint the sky all around you

~Cecile Corbel, Fireflies

Summer is Honeysuckle

To me, there can't be summer without honeysuckle. Ever since I can remember, full-blown summer has been heralded by the scent of honeysuckle wafting along on the warm, humid air. It's what makes that warm, humid air bearable, even enchanting. It smells like fairytales and wild adventures and true love. But best of all, it holds a delicious, sweet secret ready for the taking... ask the butterflies and the bees if you don't know of what it is.

photo: http://www.carolinanature.com/trees/loja.html

Thunderstorms

Oh, how I love thunderstorms. I eagerly await the wonderful, wild thunderstorms of the summer each year. The wind blows in carrying the scent of wet woods and fields, and soon enough, you hear the distant rumble of thunder.

photo by Ginger, Ozarks Walkabout http://ozarkswalkabout.com/backpacking-at-hercules-glades-wilderness/

Then it descends, all the wild wind, and hard rain drops pelting my skin, and piercing, crackling lightning. I breathe deeply, and sit back to watch... but sometimes I run out into it, glorying in the power and might and heedless wildness of it all. If I could throw myself onto the wind and be born away, I would be gone in a flash of lighting.

photo by pchow, http://www.flickr.com/photos/pchow98/favorites/?view=lg

Memories of Summer, Hopes for Spring, and Snubbing Lady Winter

When I'm not hoping for snow and enjoying grey skies and hot cups of tea, I'm plotting what I'll plant in the spring and remembering happy summer days. I found myself yearning for some warm summer colors, so I sat down with my watercolors and had a bit of fun.

Photo: Me

Photo: Me

In general, summers where I live can be unbearably hot (not the 85 degree 'hot' that northerners imagine is unbearable; I mean 104 degrees fahrenheit or more), but there are perks to them; magnolia blossoms, star jasmine, honeysuckle, and gardenias scent the night air and cause me to feel intoxicated, to the point that I'm ready to vanish into the night in search of the fairies who must assuredly be responsible for the other-worldly vapors.

Photos: Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Honeysuckle_.jpg , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Magnolia_flower_Duke_campus.jpg , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Trachelospermum_jasminoides1215878198.jpg

There's also the rivers and lakes that I do so enjoy. Even if I don't feel like swimming, there are so many wonderful things to see and find; dragonfly nymphs, pretty stones, moss...

Photo: Me

So until I get a winter wonderland for at least several days in a row, I'm going to snub Lady Winter and plot my garden and dream of summer nights, since I'm not to have my fair share of snow.

My Grandmother's Gardenias

"For you," my grandmother said, and handed me one perfect, perfumed gardenia blossom. I made the universal noise of delight: "Oh!"

There are few things as intoxicating to me as breathing in the scent of a flower,  and of all flowers that give off scent, gardenias are one of my favorites, especially since they always make me think of my grandmother and her lovely backyard. In the summer, it smells of honeysuckle, jasmine, and her gardenias, which she grows better than anyone I know. Something in the water where she lives, or perhaps in the plants themselves, make the clippings she takes and puts in a vase sprout roots within a few days.

While living in the South may have its share of hot days, we at least get to experience the delights of plants that cannot survive farther north, gardenias being one of them. My parents live only two and a half hours north, yet my mother has never been able to keep any of the rootings my grandmother has given her alive.

So I felt like I'd been given a real treasure today when my grandmother handed me the gardenia blossom as I sat outside in the sun crocheting. As I set the blossom down on my piece of handiwork, I was struck by the way the white blossom looked against the lettuce green of my yarn, and ran to get my camera. Such moments must be captured quickly; soon enough the blossom will wilt in its baby food jar and only dried petals will remain, but every time I look at these photos I will smell that blossom once again.