summer says good bye.

This spate of days full of dappled sun, cool wafting breezes, and skies so blue they take one's breath away is summer's parting gift.

The mornings are crisp now, as crisp as the skin of an early apple. The sounds of construction from across the bridge sing brightly as they dance across the waterfalls, and they pepper the air with anti-sleepyhead messages: "Get up, you slug-a-bed. Time's a-wastin'. Grab that paintbrush and slapdash some primer on those window frames while the day is young."

School needs to begin in this house. The head schoolmarm is polishing her mental chalkboard with bustling ideas of the educational kind. Algebra 2? check. Botany? check. American Literature? check? Music? Physical Education? Modern Art? check, check, check. We are beginning a sort of literary circle which involves reading and food, two things that go well together, certainly. The first meeting involves a reading of Thornton Wilder's Our Town while munching blueberry scones and sipping hot beverages. This is the plan, anyway.

My trusty trim brush is getting a workout. New windows grace our old stone home and freshly painted trim is in order for all. As I carefully cut in with razor-sharp precision (ha), my neighbor the blue heron whets his stick-legs in bed of white froth at the bottom of the falls, hunting his breakfast. We both have work to do.

We serve dinner to assorted friends. Last evening found us on the front porch once again, laughing and eating. #1 Daughter presented us with her very first cheesecake, a culinary masterpiece without blemish. Topped with our choice of sour cherry sauce or wild blueberry sauce (or a dollop of each), it quickly vanished into our happy mouths and straight into legend.

As autumnal schedules commence, I linger while looking back over my shoulder. One foot marches forward, the other drags behind while wearing a damp sneaker perfumed with river water. Summer has made her mark upon me once again.