I was trying to avoid my usual precursory ramblings. You know, I start writing an bout spring in winter, summer in spring...and now fall in summer. It’s hard to avoid saying: “What a fall-like morning.” Fog’s hugging the river valley. Dew drops, big as rain drops drip from the tall grass. A chill clings to the damp air. I can avoid avoid saying I’ve already seem some vine maples turning red.
Our heat index is rather low, that’s why I moved here. The cool mornings and the cool evenings with the perfectly comfortable blast of heat mid-day is just about perfect for human functioning. though I do love a prolonged hot spell, when it’s uncomfortable to sleep and the morning requires very little clothing. I can easily be nostalgic about those muggy midwestern summers i moved away from though, because I don’t have to live through them any more. But I also don’t get giant vine ripe tomatoes or cantaloupe.
This morning once again confirms my thoughts about the climate of the Pacific Northwest. They call it mediterranean, summer drought and winter rain. It seems though there are seasons, they don’t really follow one another, but are nested in one another like russian dolls. So at any time, in any season one can open up a tiny bit of the previous season, or the coming season. Like in January when I found a scabiosa flower. [ see archive: “Daniel Mount’s Garden Journal” Jan. 1, 2008 ]
I don’t find any snow flakes today, and the tulips are gone. But just a trace of chill in the air, and a certain blush on the apples lets me know fall is with us already. But summer better not move off yet. The tomatoes are still green.