August Musings

By Beth Yarbrough

If ever there was a month with nothing to prove, it would be the month of August. Spring has come and gone with its wild burstings, and the urgency of early summer gardens, fields and orchards has now turned into pride of accomplishment.

Meanwhile, August has been sitting in the porch swing watching the show, and now asks if we’d like to come sit a while and sip a glass of tea. “There’s still plenty of summer left, you know - warm weather, long sunsets. Fall won’t be here for a while. Relax. Enjoy.”

I see it in the skies when I’m traveling. They are laid back, their big pillowy clouds floating across the blue sky like a fleet of schooners on a calm sea. More so even than June and July, August seems to me to be the essence of summer.

I thought about it yesterday at the produce stand. Pumpkins and mums will be here soon enough, but for now, I’m savoring August. A small plane flies overhead and the morning sun promises another warm day. No rush, no fuss - just a fine day in a lovely month, sitting on a porch swing with nothing to prove.