Wednesday morning meanderings for the end of July . . .

 

Hard to believe this is the last day of July, but it is.  The month has just flown by!  We've had a truly beautiful July really.  It has been a month filled with glorious dry and sunny weather.   Well worth the wait of six years I think.  Here's hoping we don't have to wait another six years to experience it again.

As the month of July slips off the calendar the farmer looks anxiously at his ripening corn and weighs the chance of a good harvest . . . July has been so good to it.  It grows tall and proud in the fields . . . now for the tell tale browning of it's silken hair to tell us it is ripe.  Signs . . . always signs . . .

Now the children are all on their school holidays, one hopes that at least we have a few more weeks of nice seaside weather as families flock to their sandy or rocky shores . . . depending on which one they are going to.  Crowds of holiday makers are on the roadways and byways now, their caravans mixed with the usual heavy traffic of lorries and cars.  Prices jump up accordingly . . . petrol, B&B's, air fares . . .



The verges of each meadow and woodland are now embroidered with the lovely rosebay willowherb, and garlanded with traveller's joy.  The banks of the river are gay with meadow-rue and purple loosestrife . . .

In the garden the first of the chrysanthemums are keeping company with the waning delphinium in a crowded border filled with lemon and pink coloured spikes of gladiola, thrusting their way up between tangles masses of gaillardias, coreopsis, gypsophilia and golden marigolds . . .



Our roses are beginning to look a bit weary now . . . and I notice that the birds are becoming strangely silent.   Every day now we shall move a little nearer to Summer's ending.  The days will slowly become noticeably sorter . . . ending quicker.  The mornings will begin to have a bit of a chill at their edges, likewise the evenings . . .

But all is not lost . . . there are still new things waiting around the corner, some new loveliness to be perceived . . . a new joy to be experienced.



The musk mallow and hydrangea are coming into their own now, so as tired as some spots in the garden may begin to look . . . other spots are just beginning to come alive with colour.  And so it goes . . .



As we were driving to our friends' place last evening the air along the motor way was filled with floating clouds of the fluffy seed of the  milkweed filling the verges which has now exploded.  It was quite magical really . . . |I just love nature, don't you?  There is always something quite wondrous happening, something to tantalize your imagination and fuel your thoughts.

We had a lovely evening with our friends and feasted on boiled bacon and potatoes, green beans, turnips . . . mixed berries with cream and meringues . . . cheese and homemade melba toasts.   I don't know why I never thought to make my own melba toasts before, but it makes sense.  I have a few crusty rolls left from the other night that I am going to do that with today.   Maybe even flavoured melba toasts.   Sounds like a plan.



This is my latest offering based on the class I am taking on the art by Modigliani. I thought to myself why not do a portrait of the Queen, so I looked through all sorts of pictures of her and then decided to use one of her as a younger woman as my inspiration.  I was really pleased with how it turned out.   I even put a signature, a la artist on this one down in the right hand corner.  I think it does rather look like her a lot.   What do you think?? 

A thought to carry with you through today . . .

In the garden I tend to drop
my thoughts here and there.
To the flowers I whisper the secrets
I keep and the hopes I breathe.
I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels.
~Dodinsky  


 

There are Blueberry Fritters frying over in The English Kitchen today!

Have a wonderful Wednesday people!