In typically sunny, every-day-is-the-same Southern California, we don’t have the change of seasons that punctuate the East Coast experience. With the exception of the very rare hurricane, or I should say the Hilary “hurriquake” we recently experienced, the weather here is fairly predictable. Nonetheless, the pleasures of August are abundant even in suburban Santa Clarita where I live: slightly shorter days, a warm stillness in the air, and the joyful anticipation of September goodies around the corner. For my family, August is almost Autumn, and Autumn is the epitome of bliss. Birthdays, Halloween, pumpkin lattes, black cats, pumpkin candles, scary movies, pumpkin bread…more birthdays, never enough pumpkin anything. Well, you get the picture. We are pumpkin nuts around here. August is the gateway to cozy evenings and too much money spent on coffee.
Being late summer, however, my garden is looking a little weary and ragged. Both my plants and I are spent after months of servitude in the merciless hot sun. Last spring I spent the most time I have ever spent (being retired helps with time management) creating my not so secret garden: planting, pulling weeds, repotting and watering, watering, watering. Now, the plants are tired, and I am starting to feel like it’s almost time for them — meaning all of my plants, oh, and me, so in other words, us — to take a little time to relax and not worry so much about being perfect. Should I tell my withering roses to Netflix and chill?
Here are a few unfiltered, unretouched photos of what is going on now around my house:
These photos are raw examples of what happens when there is too much sun, too much rain, too much summer, and yet, a lot of love. My garden is a sign that there are times in life to let down our guard and not worry about being perfect anymore. I know, I know, here I go again finding a metaphor for life, but I can’t help my former English major self here. In the spirit of August is almost Autumn, I will let go of perfectionism and allow the metaphorical transgression. Suddenly I’ve realized that August is not only a calendar month, but also a state of mind as well as a philosophy!
Speaking of metaphors, here is a quote from F. Scott Fitzgerald to get you in the mood:
As the late summer days begin to shorten and your grass looks as dry and hopeless as mine, I hope that you will find calmer, less perfect days ahead. Breathe deep and pull down those dusty fall decorations from your spider infested attic. Because August is almost Autumn, prepare your budget, as well, for lots and lots of pumpkin stuff and trips to Starbucks.
Cheryl Thatt-Burbank 