Waning Summer

jenjoycedesign© field.jpg
Its the last days of summer, finally.  I thought I’d never get through them.

The Autumn Equinox is near, and I thought I’d enjoy a nice afternoon walk up the ridge and take some photos of the landscape in the waning summer.

Wild peas  continuing to bloom unusually late…
jenjoycedesign© wild peas 2

As I got higher up the ridge where the bad burn is,

I notice so many sprouted trees, as this baby knob cone pine, about 8 inches tall …

jenjoycedesign© baby pine

Sprouted right beneath the scorched parent tree, full of pine cones….

jenjoycedesign© burned pine

In a blink it will be the Autumnal Equinox , only four days!  Knowing I am near to being in a far better place mentally with the anniversary of the wildfire so soon to pass, I am so very eager to be grateful again and excited about life’s good things.

jenjoycedesign© fence 2

19 thoughts on “Waning Summer

    • Well, Ben, I struggle even here to post the photos, write the words, but in the end its better that I do. No matter how much I think I would rather be totally isolated and “quietly” share on my blog (thinking nobody reads) — seemingly such a one-sided thing, until people like you start posting comments, so thank you! xx

    • Sarah, those deep gold fields are signature of Northern California. In May they are already light yellow, then turning deeper gold as the summer passes. The wild peas are usually long passed by now, nothing but papery dried plants gone dormant , but they persist! Everything in the landscape is relishing the extra light from the tree foliage dropping I am guessing.xx

      • no wonder California is known for gold – never mind the metal kind, those grasses are like sunshine! I bet that you are right about the lack of foliage – when we cleared trees to build our house, we were amazed at what popped up in the clearing. And how the trees at the edges spread their branches wide to catch the sun. We are actually looking at having to do more tree removal to open things up a bit more now (ten year later).

  1. Thank you for sharing a small piece of your journey. In “Autumn “, your choice of thoughts and words accompanying each photograph touched me. I felt like I was walking with you, listening to a friend. I begin my day holding your expression of peace, sadness and new beginnings close to me. It helps me focus on really seeing my world and not getting lost in the busyness. I deeply hope things are progressing with the permitting as well.
    Sincerely, Jaye, Salt Lake City

    • Oh Jaye, thank you from my heart! Permit should be any day now, after a long process. I look at those photos and its difficult to imagine that only 11 months ago those very places all were blackened — all the grasses gone, most of the leaves off the trees if not brown from the heat — and it is surprising to see the little windows from the camera, of what looks already normal again. I dare not show any unpleasant landscapes, only the life returning here and there, thus beauty with it.

  2. Dear Jen, one of my so very beloved poems from Rainer Maria Rilke. I can’t say, if the translation is good, but maybe you know it anyway:

    Thanks for sharing your (always) gorgeous landscape impressions and thoughts! 💜

    Autumn Day

    Lord, it is time. Let the great summer go,
    Lay your long shadows on the sundials,
    And over harvest piles let the winds blow.
    Command the last fruits to be ripe;
    Grant them some other southern hour,
    Urge them to completion, and with power
    Drive final sweetness to the heavy grape.
    Who’s homeless now, will for long stay alone.
    No home will build his weary hands,
    He’ll wake, read, write letters long to friends
    And will the alleys up and down
    Walk restlessly, when falling leaves dance.

I'd love to hear what you have to say...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s