Waiting For Summer To Die

Image source.

The Graveyard Was Cool With Old Deaths

THE GREEN ACREAGE OF THE OLD CEMETERY WAS filled with stones and names on stones. Not only the names of the people earthed over with sod and flowers, but the names of seasons. Spring rain had written soft, unseen messages here. Summer sun had bleached granite. Autumn wind had softened the lettering. And snow had laid its cold hand on winter marble. But now what the seasons had to say was only a cool whisper in the trembling shade...

Farewell Summer, Ray Bradbury

Image by a.traveller.

A Crisp Morning

Summer Heat is to Halloween Spirit
as
Dago Bastard is to Sean Connery.

(I just know creeping Summer has something up its sleeve.)

Ready For The Season

Tired of Summer.
Wishing I were standing in a store aisle packed with Halloween decorations.

Soon.

Scarecrow-Building Weather

This humid Summer loaded with heavy rains and crazy amounts of mosquitoes might just be giving up the ghost.

Farewell Summer. I hated you dearly.


Tonight: Clear to partly cloudy. Low 57F. Winds SW at 5 to 10 mph.

Tomorrow: Generally sunny despite a few afternoon clouds. High around 70F. Winds SW at 10 to 20 mph.

Tomorrow night: Generally fair. Low 51F. Winds W at 5 to 10 mph.

Saturday: Few showers. Highs in the upper 50s and lows in the mid 40s.

Sunday: Partly cloudy. Highs in the mid 50s and lows in the mid 40s.

Monday: Sunshine. Highs in the mid 60s and lows in the low 50s.

The Cooling

It seems that cooler air is finally being forecasted.
It's coming in on the back of a windy storm.
Classy way to arrive.

Hopefully it stays clear through Halloween.



Image by sparth.

Summer's Dead

Temps in the 70's this week. Cool breeze blowing through the office window. Paper weight finally doing its job.

Farewell Summer. Scram.



Image source.

Farewell Summer

There are those days which seem a taking in of breath which, held, suspends the whole earth in its waiting. Some summers refuse to end.
So along the road those flowers spread that, when touched, give down a shower of autumn rust. By every path it looks as if a ruined circus had passed and loosed a trail of ancient iron at every turning of a wheel. The rust was laid out everywhere, strewn under trees and by riverbanks and near the tracks themselves where once a locomotive had gone but went no more. So flowered flakes and railroad track together turned to moulderings upon the rim of autumn.
"Look, Doug," said Grandpa, driving into town from the farm. Behind them in the Kissel Kar were six large pumpkins picked fresh from the patch. "See those flowers?"
"Yes, sir."
"Farewell summer, Doug. That's the name of those flowers. Feel the air? August come back. Farewell summer."

From FAREWELL SUMMER, by Ray Bradbury
(Temps mostly in the 70's all week - hopefully summer is dead)