Summer's Ending, vol. 1

As we enter the last months of summer, the earth begins to transform again. Grasses become a bit dryer, the sky a bit duskier, and night returns a bit earlier. Streets quieten as children return to school, and the local pool rests empty during the daytime.

Our gardens begin to ripen and swell with life, ready for the picking. And as the orchard trees begin to sag, their limbs heavy with fruit, we dare to start thinking of fall, a season still too far away to feel but close enough to consider. This reminder of autumn comes at night, wrapped in the sudden crispness of the breeze, a cinnamon-y earthiness in the air, a new desperation in the trill of the cicadas.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be sharing a photo series on summer's ending in order to document the season as it peaks and wanes before us. Today's photos document our evening walk with Solo. After dinner, we usually take the pup for a walk around our block and, sometimes, to Baker Park. Yesterday, an evening storm had just passed by, its trail of trickling raindrops all that was left of its bluster. I love the way grey clouds and rain render plant-life more vivid, somehow. The leaves are greener and the flowers brighter, as if life has developed a sudden luster and become livelier in those moments.

What are your favorite aspects of summer's ending?