The end of summer always brings mixed emotions. The lazy hazy days are gone for another year. Cooler mornings brisk nights move in to take their place. The lush dark green begins to fade, becoming paler. The occasional leaf drifts from the poplar trees to grace the fading grass. The grass isn't finished, though. It will be back. Cooler temps brings regrowth, regreening, and renewed mowing.
The big poplar on the edge of the backyard is always a forerunner in the race to lose summer foliage. Singularly and in pairs, yellowish brown leaves begin to drop off that tree around August first every year. I've paid attention. I know this for fact. The poplar is an impressive tree, but come fall it lacks the splendor of its counterpart in the front yard. That maple puts on a yearly display of vivid red orange. Every year I take pictures of it with the intent to eventually get the perfect one framed.
This summer, much like most, my writing slowed and for a bit actually stopped. I hear the writers out there gasping. The prevailing wisdom is you must write something every day. That makes a lot of sense. If you write something every day, just keep chipping away at it, before you know it, the story is complete. Early on in my career I understood that wasn't always going to be the case, for me. At least not yet. I do look forward to the day when my writing will be my only career, but it is not come yet.
But it's not like my writing suffered during those still times. There were ideas to formulate into stories and then to plot. My website got a few updates as I improved my photoshop skills. There were blogs to write and blogs to plan. The future needs a great deal of groundwork.
Today there is work to be done. I'm taking a few more vacation days at the end of this week and I want to be able to relax. I need to clear one To Do List before I create another. Seems like it's time to get crackin' on it, but not before I give a nod to the summer just past. Good days.