I think I drink too much coffee because the low around 4:30 felt tells me I need to nap, drink more coffee or shuffle out to the garden beds and see what’s coloring the dinner plate this evening. Harvests pep me like caffeine and fill my skirt, held in basket’s curve at bottom.
We’re getting creative with all the zucchini stretching out, ripe, in late afternoon’s harvest.
Olive is thrilled, busy and into Mrs. Potato Head’s part with the overripe zucchini.
Summer’s invitation arrived late to our island, so we find ourselves pausing in the humid air to admire tiny insects, tiny guests.
September’s sunsets are killing me, all sherbert cobbler hues.
We feel like we’re clutching onto our summer wish list and crossing things off
After bath and in pajamas we jumped on the trampoline until the sky turned dark velvet and the coral hues hung in our mids, drifted into our dreams.
Lucy had her first sleep over. At drop off, she took about three steps and hopped onto her pal’s sofa and began showing dresses on dog eared magazine pages while her buddy chimed in with ideas in shoes, jewelry.
Today they’re four. Tomorrow, teenagers.
Almost and most certainly too soon.
We’ve been going to places around the island we’ve never previously been. Funny to think how how it takes to travel each curve of the island’s hip, each inlet where island meets sound.
My folks were visiting for August and it was wonderful to have a Grammy and Grandpop share our days, help in our routines and celebrate our summer days.
So many mini adventures, whale watching from seaweed corners and ice cream walks in late, humid afternoons.
Luke and I celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary a bit late, glad to leave our girls with my parents. We were going to go on this amazing vacation through Colorado and New Mexico, spend time with old friends in the circle of a wedding celebration, ride a train…
We’re in the midst of a sluggish home remodel, a non-existant savings account, a new school year…
The list goes on. We’re broken hearted to back out of the trip, of the laughs waiting with good friends beside the mountains of Taos. I had a fancy dress and vintage cowboy boots picked out, but at least I got to where them on a fancy dinner date with my lovely Mr. and served by my best buddy.
Waterfront dining at its best, all the while playing a game we began on our honeymoon:
The evenings of late have been wonderful, drawing us to the beach to enjoy sunsets and giggles and attempts at rock skipping.
S’mores taste better at the beach, sitting atop driftwood and listening to the waves. It’s perfect.
But, as you can see in the picture below, it isn’t all giggles and gooey chocolate. Maybe five minutes after the above idyllic family beach s’more shot was snapped, Lucy started to freak out that she couldn’t eat as many s’mores as she wanted to. Luke calmly explained, it’d be great if you could be happy for what you got.
We have a new secret spot on the island. It’s the perfect rock in the perfect cove.
Perfect for fairies to live, explains Betty.
So we drive out to it when we can, building tiny houses of seashells and leaves and rocks.
The picture below, although it’s too exposed and shot too high, captures I think how Betty sees this rock in her mind.
I’m holding onto these Indian Summer nights, where the light fades perfect over calm shores.
Flip flop feet happy, bed sheets a bit sandy
cheeks sun-kissed, red with near-autumn’s sun.