Song at the End of Summer

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Sept1-11

Song 1

A second crop of hay lies cut
and turned. Five gleaming crows
search and peck between the rows.
They make a low, companionable squawk,
and like midwives and undertakers
possess a weird authority.

Crickets leap from the stubble,
parting before me like the Red Sea.
The garden sprawls and spoils.

Across the lake the campers have learned
to water ski. They have, or they haven’t.
Sounds of the instructor’s megaphone
suffuse the hazy air. “Relax! Relax!”

Cloud shadows rush over drying hay,
fences, dusty lane, and railroad ravine.
The first yellowing fronds of goldenrod
brighten the margins of the woods.

Schoolbooks, carpools, pleated skirts;
water, silver-still, and a vee of geese.

—Jane Kenyon
from Three Songs at the End of Summer

CakeGreenElizabeth

Rainmakers’ Vacation

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The rainmakers have undeniably taken an extended holiday this summer, and the sparkling fountain surrounded by grapevine-shaded tables tucked behind Firehook Bakery offers a welcome retreat from hot city sidewalks.

FirehookGarden
 
Drops
in rain language
have not yet begun to stutter
in the cloud throat.
The thunder mouth is toothless
and lighting has not yet flicked
the spotlights on in the pupil
of the eye.
Until the stoves are lit,
sleeves will be rolled up on the arms of the sun,
another demonstration will erupt
in the clandestine curves of the girl
who in a Trieste piazza has wet
her lips with wine
and the summer will send gangsters
to repulse autumn’s gunmen
from the border of its waves.
 
—Ronny Someck

CakeWeddingAnn and Saul

 

Sparklers

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ShootingStarsDetail

This year, the evening of August 12th is the peak viewing time for the Perseid meteor shower. Congratulations, you lucky folk who happen to be in the mountains, on the prairie, at the beach, or in any location far from city lights! Set your alarm clock for midnight (if you are not still awake at this time), spread a blanket outside, lie down facing the northeast, and watch for shooting stars. Unfortunately this year the Perseids coincide with the nearly-full moon (of August 13th), so you may miss the faint ones. But even lying under a big golden moon at midnight is a treat.

For a larger picture and a little more about the Perseid meteor shower, please see Night of the Shooting Stars.


 

Summer Sun

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Aug1Sun

I appreciate our glowing orb as much as the next person. However, given this long dry spell and 100-degree temperatures, I think it’s time for Helios to take a little holiday.

Nevertheless, here is a tribute for the first of August.

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

—Robert Louis Stevenson

CakeFirefliesFrancine


 

Beach Memory

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GloucesterTower

A sketch of the beach in Gloucester, Massachusetts, where we were at this time last year. But we knew back in January when we replaced our ancient furnace that there would be no summer travel for us this year. So, instead we attempt to go swimming every single day, before breakfast, or before dinner. Or sometimes both! That’s two vacations per day.

To see the dangers you risk when you return from an actual trip out of town, please see Bananas.

CakeShellsBob


 

Birthday Pie

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Mom&KeyLimePie

Of the pies my mother made, our favorite was apple, but she could also make a terrific and unequalled lemon meringue pie: tart, deeply lemony, with high white peaks. On her own birthday, of course, she could sit down to pies made by others. This sketch is from a birthday lunch at which she decided to go for the Key Lime. Alas, her illusions were dispelled: it was too sweet. Someone else finished it and she was obliged to make do with the profiterolles. Happy birthday, Mom. In a perfect Heaven, the clouds are fluffy edible meringue.

CakeBlackEyeSusanMom


 

Palisades Parade

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Palisades

An event we enjoy just as much as the Fourth of July fireworks is the Palisades neighborhood parade, which begins with a rousing group of bagpipers and concludes with cowboys on horseback (an arrangement cleverly designed to keep manure off the marchers’ feet).

In between are families riding their decorated bicycles; dressed-up trucks from the local firehouse, plumber and grocer; a group of fabulously energetic Peruvian dancers; local politicians distributing flyers, jewelry, and candy; the GLBT Different Drummers, with their Big Band/Swing sound and exuberant drum major; vintage cars driven by their vintage owners; home-grown George and Martha, Uncle Sams and Statues of Liberty; a huge float bearing summer campers belting out Broadway show tunes; patriotically attired dogs; and a crowned and smiling Miss Millwood, the currently favored teen queen of Millwood Place.

We wave, we cheer and clap for everybody, we go home feeling a love of country and a connection to all humanity.

CakeFireworksMelinda