Ah friends, it's a drab and dreary day here on the little farm. The sun showed her face for a brief moment before being overtaken by gray clouds, laden with rain. The sky is rumbling, the wind is blowing, the trees are whipping around...and the chickens are standing right out in it. The dogs have to good sense to hide under my desk, the cat is lounging under the cover of the front porch, but the chickens...they are, quite literally, too stupid to come in out of the rain. I've never seen such a display of poor reasoning.
This rain has brought with it a whisper of cool air. Not quite a nip, but enough to make me remember brisk fall mornings and orange and gold and yellow and red. I'm ready to vanquish Summer, banish her in favor of her milder and sweeter sister, Autumn. I'm ready for wool socks and warm soups and fires and cozy blankets. I'm ready for hot coffee on a cool morning and a warm, flickering fire at night. I'm ready for Nature to don her technicolor coat and dazzle the senses.
Summer, while sweet and nurturing with her sun and warmth in the beginning, has become overzealous. I think she is enjoying too much her unrelenting sun and her dry, dry days. I think she's gotten a little maniacal, gone a wee bit mad, lost a few marbles, so to speak. The soft, fresh colors of Spring have become an overbearing wall, an impenetrable fortress of green. This year, Summer brought with her dust and and baked ground aplenty and she has withheld her nourishing rains and electrifying storms.
Alas, it's only July. We are in the thick of it and still have those dog days ahead. But, on mornings like this, we can imagine that Autumn is right around the bend and forget about Summer, if only for a few hours.