August

 " The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. "

~Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

August Days

                           

 

 "Fairest of the months

Ripe summer's queen

The hey-day of the year

With robes that gleam with sunny sheen

Sweet August doth appear."

~ R. Combe Miller

 

And The Rains Came

Ten inches of rainfall fell in the past two days, filling the creeks and streams to capacity.
The humidity slowly rises each day, even the birds have taken to their cool nesting spots beneath the tree canopies.
Such are the days of August....

August Days

                           

 

 

"Fairest of the months

Ripe summer's queen

The hey-day of the year

With robes that gleam with sunny sheen

Sweet August doth appear."

~ R. Combe Miller