Two weeks ago I spent the morning here. I was comfortable in shorts, sporting a sun hat and sand between my toes.
The heady days of summer are not quite over, but they're losing interest in us, looking away more often. Then back. Then away.
Today I don a sweater in the morning but shed it two hours later. I watch the garden, exhausted from it's season in the sun, droop and begin to yellow, even as the harvest rolls in. We're caught between, lingering in one season and looking toward another.