The Suitcase Lady


August 21, 2012, 9:33 pm

The curtain is coming down on summer. Many sun filled days remain, yet the signs of an impending finale are impossible to deny. The Martin house is getting silent as its occupants head south, while the insect chorus becomes louder each night.

Our milkweed pods grow visibly fatter each day; the little blue stem reaches taller and taller. The first yellow of the goldenrod is dappling the meadow as the yellow of the male goldfinches is fading.

Our baby raccoons aren’t babies anymore. The chipmunks, a bumper crop this year, are stuffing their checks to capacity. The migratory birds are eating on overdrive as well.

And then there are my spider friends. Every Charlotte in our yard is in high gear, spinning, spinning, spinning and wrapping eggs. Being an arachnophile helps when living in the country and also knowing that of 43,000 spider species in the world, only one percent give humans the possibility of grief.

The darkness is creeping in earlier each night, and even after a sizzling day, the nights are deliciously cool. We throw the windows open wide.

If we moved to the middle of the planet, we could live in eternal summer. But wouldn’t that be like having a birthday every day?

“Nothing gold can stay”, said Robert Frost. Summer is fleeing before our eyes.


Comments are closed.