Yes, as much as I do not care for Summer and Summer does not care for me, I love Indian Summer. I agree that might sound like an oxymoron or, at the very least, sound rather peculiar, but when you consider the source of the statement…. (be kind, now!)
Oddly enough, as much as the sun and I do not get along, at this time of the year we are on comparatively friendly terms and it’s refreshing to go outside and enjoy the UN-humid air and the lush scents of leaves and late summer flowers. When the sun slants and the breeze billows to softly tousle your hair, contentment sits smiling on your shoulder. (Ok, so I can’t help being poetic, even when I’m trying not to be poetic…my apologies)
Remember Fall when you were a child? The heaps of fragrant leaves all raked together just so you could run for all you were worth and hurl yourself with wild abandon into their feathery midst? (Come on, you remember; I know you did that too!) Remember the joy, the giggles, and the jubilant expectation that thrilled through you while you watched the pile being re-accumulated just for you? (or for your sibling/friend, but honestly, they don’t count here, do they? No, didn’t think so)
This reminds me of the Peanuts cartoon where Linus takes a flying leap into the pile of leaves that Charlie Brown has just finished raking together, only to emerge with a face full of foliage and a lollipop covered in leaves. Thank you Linus for teaching us the invaluable lesson that we should never jump into a pile of leaves with a wet sucker!
Indian Summer also brings to mind late season picnics, the last of the corn on the cob and, perhaps, the last of the hamburgers;/or hot dogs cooked on the grill as well. Oh those perfectly temperate days, cool evenings; that golden sunshine (rather than the blistering glare of July), and even the ubiquitous spider webs (that invariably give me the willies, because where there’s a web…)
In our area of Pennsylvania the fields of corn and soy beans come down (cattle fodder, generally) and countless raptors wheel overhead, soaring on the bounteous breeze that follows the Appalachians, moving from North to South in their yearly migrations. The gardens get cleaned up and cleared out; the squirrels start gathering their nests high in the yawning boughs of trees, and the last of the summer crickets trill and chatter the day long. It’s the loveliest time of year, really. Apple Cider entices, Caramel Apples beg attention (and generally receive it!), and Buttercream Pumpkins (a personal favourite), for a short time, fill the sweets dish.
Indian Summer in all its glamour makes me ever covetous of luminous sunbeams and the crunch of crimson and bronze leaves; fills my memory with jack o lanterns and Halloween costumes; entices me to pause, breathe deep (hopefully without sneezing!) (sorry, broke the spell, there) and enjoy the warm shimmer sensually enveloping those few brief days of Autumn.
My Mostest Favouritest Time of Year.
Beautiful Photography by: cynthiafleury.photoshelter.com others found on Pinterest. Credit Acknowledged to the Amazing Original Photographers. Thank You.