Last night, somewhere between that first slice of turkey and the last slice of pumpkin pie, the first real cold weather of the season snuck in. And at some point, under the icy glare of a crisp, cold, waning moon, the tropical milkweed and the fully-flowered lantana and the blooming roses and the sky-reaching castor plant and the still-blooming buddleia and the enormous elephant ears and the leafy coral bells and the lacy hydrangeas still packed with flowers waned as well - sighing their last breath. This morning, wincing at the inevitable, I rose to say goodbye and found nothing waving back but the skeletons of summer and the freshly-minted memories of warmer days. And it's the memory of those glorious summer days that lead me to this post now.
Just a few months ago, as the dog-days of August were starting to fetch something vastly more interesting than a hot air furnace, I made a quick short trip to Ohio to see friends that I actually first met a few years ago -- right here at the Faraway, Nearby.
And so to Indigo Hill I ventured in late August, and what was to be a quiet, uneventful, long weekend --turned into an extraordinary journey. A journey that, looking back now from the icy tendrils of winter's reach, was one of celebration -- a celebration of the casual grace of beautiful friendships, the joy of a loving family, the euphoria that comes from being engaged in the natural world, the bounty that comes from honoring the creative muse at every turn, and the riches of the last days of summer.
As the season turns toward rest, reflection and renewal - I leave you with the warmth that is August on Indigo Hill.
Who needs pie? Tim, your photos are eye candy!
No, your photos are balm for my soul.
Oh timmeh. This hit me just right on a cold, dreary November night. So why am I bawling? Because you are all soul, my friend, and that's what makes you the best company imaginable, and what makes your absence hard to bear. I miss you like I miss my zinnias, my salvia, my butterflies. I'm thankful they bloomed until just a few weeks ago, and I'm so grateful you made the trip out to be with us. You + Nina + Shila + us + late summer country road=nirvana. Guarantee you Nina will spill over too when she sees this post. Going to nudge her right now.
I miss all of you, and I haven't even met one of you.
Tim, everything you offer leaves me almost speechless. What beauty you captured on that special weekend! When I saw Nina on the path I almost cried.
You are blessed to be so talented and to visit good friends on Indigo Hill.
I can almost crawl right down inside those flowers, feel the warmth of a summer afternoon, frolic in the fields with our cameras, relax in the arms of friends.
A perfect finish for my Thanksgiving.
Thank you, Tim, for your remembrance of this time and those most special of friends.
Beautiful post, Tim!
When I die, I know heaven's going to look like Indigo Hill. Thank you for knowing that box turtles are just as beautiful as flowers and butterflies.
Beautiful. There's a foot of snow outside right now, so your pictures are a piece of summer in my living room.
Wow, what a collection of great photos. I just love them.
TR, beauty abounds here, and peace! I recognize this place and that person of course! How wonderful that you were able to go! Great series of shots here. It has transported me from this cold New England day!
"...a celebration of the casual grace of beautiful friendships, the joy of a loving family, the euphoria that comes from being engaged in the natural world, the bounty that comes from honoring the creative muse at every turn...."
The soul of it, Tim, beautifully rendered in words and images. A lovely gift to us all in the waning days of autumn.
Thanx for sharing this with all of usFaucets
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