This is the final post in our Summer Countdown series. What a delight it has been to explore with you the many ways summer is experienced through our traditions and celebrations, and our appetites.
Of course, summer isn't totally over. Nature doesn't use a calendar, so we drift and slowly turn towards autumn: the hints already began back in August and we won't really be in full fall until October. We may be packing up the summer house (both metaphorically and physically) this weekend, but don't say goodbye to summer quite yet. The sun is still with us.
Recently I stumbled on an old post from my Weekend Meditation column. It was written on this very same weekend back in 2011, but still expresses heart and mind today. An excerpt, shared below, as a final offering.
This is a magical time, when one thing begins to slip into the other, briefly filling our hands with the bounty of both. My bowl of apples sits next to a rather lush heap of tomatoes and a vase full of fresh basil. Dinner tonight was a stir-fry of tomatoes, corn, and zucchini and a chilled glass of white wine, and a slice of freshly made apple cake for dessert. My feet are bare and the window is wide open, but I throw a heavier quilt on the bed as the fog drifts in a little earlier than usual.
This is a good time to pay close attention and listen for the sounds and tastes and messages of the changing seasons. There's poetry in everything and the heart can fill as quickly as the belly as the bright, bold gift of the harvest begins. Stay with it as long as you can, soak it up and let it fill every bit of you.
Go outside and lift your face to the sun. Eat tomatoes at every meal and put sweet corn and basil into every dish you possibly can — even dessert. Consider the dozens of uses for eggplant, grill peaches to eat with sweet cheeses and thyme, and make salsas from plums and chilies and lime. Sprinkle a little salt on a whole radish and pop it into your mouth.
Fill up. Drink deep. Taste everything. Autumn is coming.