Maybe it's just me, but this August seemed like the longest month ever. I blame work stress; a lot of teachers and other staff members have told me they feel the same way this year. In any case, I'm so happy that September has finally arrived! No matter what the temperatures are like, once September begins it seems like fall to me.
I've been waiting on Tom to make his annual comment about "mists and mellow fruitfulness" but unless I've missed it (which is possible) then I've beaten him to it!
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
-John Keats
Now I'm in the mood for changing leaves, cool nights, camping trips, soups and chili instead of salads and grilled meats, and mountain apples arriving in the farmers' markets. Speaking of apples, this showed up on my Facebook "memories" from four years ago today:
My first (and so far, only) attempt at making baked apple roses. I wasn't entirely satisfied with how they ended up looking, but they tasted great! I think slicing the apples thinner before wrapping them in pastry would result in a prettier rose shape; maybe I'll try making them again later this month. It was fun to do.
