Clear blue skies at sunrise, fields of sunflowers in bloom and ripening corn so tall that one can stand in it and be completely hidden from view. Damson plums on the sideboard, wax beans and the first tomatoes of the season in the kitchen - it doesn't take much to get one thinking squirrel thoughts at a time of the year when gardens and orchards are strewing fresh organic produce before us like flowers.
Produce is carried in by the basket from the garden daily, and there are quart sealers and jam jars on every surface. Where in the little blue house are we going to put all the bounty we are gathering in and putting by for leaner times and other seasons?
In wide fields beyond the garden, bees and wasps are intoxicated by the nectars of goldenrod and summer daisies and lurching ecstatically. from flower to flower. Stooks and sheaves of grain are everywhere drying in the sunlight, and cribs are overflowing with corn. Yesterday I noticed that a neighbor's pumpkin patch is in full luxuriant flower, and there are little green apples in the old orchard now - they are already giving off a fine spice, although they still have a long long way to go.
Every season has its tutelary spirits and deities, and the gift bearing guardians of summer are many. Think Lugh, Dionysus, Bacchus and Silenus, Adonis, Tammuz, Saturn and Pan. Think Demeter, Kore and Nokomis, Dame Kind, the Corn Mother, Ceres, Parvati and Pomona. And the Old Wild Mother??? She is surely here in our garden in summer, but Hers is every season of the turning year.
5 singing pebbles:
Your description sounds delightfully pastoral... Expecting to see Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm come bouncing in the door. And an apple pie on the window sill... :) Wishing I was inclined to garden, can and bake :)
I, of course, love the photo of the sunflower reaching for the Sun. In places east of where we live they grow in rows, in large fields, and I love seeing their regimented beauty - standing tall - following the light, always turning to the light. Warms this heart just thinking about it... sigh... LOL
Christine
Very pastoral it is, Mystic Meandering, but so much is crammed into our shorter northern summers, and the deer flies here are huge and numerous - Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm would run for her life.
stunning colour.
Sunflowers make me smile. They always look so happy, even when their droopy heads bend earthward....they're just resting.
This is a gorgeous shot!
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