“At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.”
~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
After a scorching heatwave, suddenly change is in the air.
The mornings have a welcome crispness, and early fog creeps up from the river and hangs about the flats. In this cooler air even the sun is up later, and the birds are delaying their morning chorus for that extra bit of shut-eye.
Still our days are long and warm. The midday sun only slightly less ferocious. But the twilights are languid and warm instead of stifling, after which cooler air pushes away the heat of the day and brings the promise of a decent sleep, and the need for a blanket in the early hours.
All about town we are talking gardens again. What we’re planting. What bounty we might enjoy in a few months time. Before this it has been too hard, too hot, and we have been at the beach instead, or laid out in the shade. Summer here is cruel for tender seedlings and young plants. Finally this change has us thinking possibilities again.
I am grateful to live with the earth’s ever-changing canvas and moods. Nature remains a most powerful teacher.