August is stifling, a string of one hundred plus degree days.

Plants wilt and scream to be cut back or yanked from the soil.

I open the kitchen door and heat billows.  Before sunrise.

The dogs stop and sniff and stare, refusing to move from the back step. They wonder what’s going on in this place we live?

Yes, they wonder, I can tell by their cocked heads and sincere eyes.

I enjoy August, even with her sultry days bringing frizzy hair and skin damp enough to sprout seeds.

August marks the bittersweet end of summer.

Maybe sneak in one last vacation?

I anticipate fall and cotton harvest.

School supplies fill store shelves.

Number two pencils.

Clean white notebook paper.

I wait for college football and pumpkin lattes.

I wait for that first brilliant leaf.

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.  ~Sam Keen