The month of August behaves much like a morning fog enters a day, blanketing the earth with its sultry stillness but quickly baking off, suddenly and all too easily, transitioning into the banal month of September.
Do you see the tree in the foreground is showing a hint of change?
I walked the Valle this morning. I started under the veil of fog. By the time I parked my Jeep near the Goodnight Farm, blue skies peaked over top the clouds near the Taylor's place.
I strolled along the twisty mowed path of the conservancy wetlands. Flowers bowed at my feet, kissing the hems of my jeans with dew.
I saw Matt Cooper harvesting his crop of kale to sell at the Farmer's Market Saturday morning. I stopped to admire his work. He showed me a bumper crop of nearly ripe winter squash. Then he gifted me with a handful of his Dino Kale . His favorite way to eat it is to caramelize onions and garlic in olive oil. Add kale and saute for 10 minutes. Take the mixture off heat and add chopped walnuts, cranberries and fresh goat cheese. It is what's for dinner tonight.
If the Ironweed and Joe Pye play first fiddle in the symphony of flowers this month then sunflowers play the bass, adding an intense effect to the scenery with their booming yellows. I'll be sure to include some yellows in my photo repertoire soon. I promise.
After my walk, I found the fog had lifted from the Valle as well as from head.
(P.S.-I stopped at the Mast Store to check my mailbox and heard the annual August fog count is underway. I forgot to ask how many beans are in the jar but I'll keep you posted.)
