...life is so beautiful. After weeks of heat and humidity, we've had a series of the most gorgeous days. The late garden is blooming its heart out, and I've been bringing home tall spears of gladiolus (from the Latin gladius, for sword) in my backpack, which never fails to elicit smiles when I stop my bike at intersections. But it's not just the flowers and the harvest -- displays of corn, melons, berries, peaches, sunflowers, red and yellow peppers, and ripe tomatoes outside the fruiteries -- but a kind of late summer abandon in the way people are dressing, the flowered skirts blowing in the wind, the colorful tops, rakish hats, people streaming into the park with their dinner, their wine bottles, children, balloons. Everyone knows what's coming (the cruel shopkeepers are already putting winter boots and coats in their windows) but it's as if there's a collective, silent pact among Montrealers to wring every last bit of pleasure from the remaining warm, long days.
but that is what life is all about, isn't it?
making the very best of that which we have here and now
Posted by: Mouse | August 18, 2011 at 01:02 PM
Kia ora Beth,
Your last sentence makes me smile with the synchronicity we had in New Zealnad this past week, though for different reasons. We are in winter here, and this week brought a huge southerly straight off the Antartic ice shelf which has swept the country. Places that have never seen snow have been snowed upon, and the utter looks of amazement, smiles, and utter joy upon the faces of adults and children alike has been incredible to witness.
Aroha,
Robb
Posted by: Robb | August 18, 2011 at 06:16 PM
This is glorious!
Posted by: Uma | August 19, 2011 at 01:29 AM
Such a beautiful drawing - both lush and delicate.
Posted by: Jean | August 19, 2011 at 10:22 AM
I love your depiction of the late summer abandon. I'm here in north-central Alberta, and I know all about it. We love to lap up ever last moment!! :)
-Lisa
Posted by: Lisa | August 27, 2011 at 07:11 PM