End of August

With the end of August fast approaching, summer is drawing to a close in the mountains. There will still be hot days, but cool nights and the gradual fading of the insect chorus signals the end of a season. Baked by summer sun, these tawny grasses are slowly turning brown. I took this photo to catch the feel of time turning, with green, yellow and brown grass all together in the frame. They are punctuated by flowers of Queen Anne’s lace, some already curling up in their bird’s nest shapes, ready to disperse their seeds for next year. There is a melancholy beauty to the approach of autumn, as each member of the riotous life of spring and summer bows out. When I was a child, my mom played in an orchestra that concluded each summer season, around this time of year, with The Farewell Symphony. The members of the orchestra blew out their candles as they each left the stage, leaving only the sound of soft violins before they too ended. Sometimes as I watch fading flowers and hear fewer crickets call every night, I remember this and feel nature’s orchestra moving inexorably toward the silence of winter.