WHERE DID SUMMER GO? A GIANT GIVEAWAY

I have no idea what happened to summer. As soon as school was out, we had major construction projects going on. Then in July we went to the Big Island of Hawaii for a much-needed vacation in the vog, and then spent several weeks at home while the sky and air was filled with wildfire smoke, trying to downsize my huge collection of cacti and succulents so that I don’t have to figure out where to put them all when the weather gets cold. On top of it, there was our summer sale, with frenzied packing and shipping for a month. Now I’m one week back into teaching the intensive 4-week course that I do each year. So much for summer. 

As I type this, I see that the leaves on the maple tree outside my window are turning yellow. I don’t know if it is because the weather was warmer and drier than usual (I don’t think so), or whether it is an effect of the smoke. This tree normally doesn’t lose its leaves until the middle of November, so I don’t know what’s going on with it. 

Yesterday was the first mostly smoke-free day we’ve had, and it was good to see blue sky. This morning it looks like the smoke may be coming back. Smoke in summer seems to be the new normal. 

I’ve been trying to upgrade my perfume studio with new shelving and storage for bottles, stock, and labels. It’s an ongoing process. To celebrate the fact that I now have storage space with easy access to printed bottles, I’m offering a huge end of summer giveaway. Leave any sort of comment about your summer or anything else that strikes your fancy, and be entered in a drawing for 100 g of perfume samples along with other random things including creams and lotions, facial cleansers, cosmetics, and who knows what else. 

[Photos are mine, taken on the Big Island] 

WINNERS OF THE DRAWING AND A BREATHER

First things first. The winners of the random drawing are:

NADJA

and

BELLE

Because Nadja wins all of my drawings (I swear the drawings are totally random!) I picked a third winner:

BELLATRIX

If you are international, you will need to e-mail me with your full shipping address. You will receive a selection of samples, mine and others. If you are in the US, you will receive samples plus some larger items. Congratulations to all winners!

This past week I’ve been pretty much buried under teaching, trying to keep up with shipping, and planning for our fall theatre production. The fall rains have swept in with a vengeance, a month or two early, making my early morning commutes miserable. The only bright side of the unusual weather is that plants I thought were dead and mummified have suddenly revived and are growing at a ridiculous rate. The fall crocuses appeared overnight, and are gorgeous. The peppers and tomatoes are getting a second wind, and the second fig crop is well on the way to ripeness. This weekend gives me a short breather before class continues next week. 

The days are getting shorter, and the sun is lower in the sky. It’s sad to see summer end, but exciting to have a new year begin, with all the changes I have planned. 

[Lottery machine photo from Wikimedia. The big leaf maple is mine.] 

SUMMER IS SLIPPING AWAY

I know it’s early to start complaining that summer is almost over, but for me, it is. Classes start on Tuesday, and I’ll be working indoors most of the time from here on out. Even though it may still be summer outside, I won’t get to experience it much. Such is life.

Last Tuesday night when a group of us left the theatre where we’d been doing readings, everyone was standing around in the grungy, grimy street in Capitol Hill, debating whether to go out for a beer or not. Suddenly I realized that if you looked up above the ugly parked cars, distorted sidewalks, and stinky garbage cans, the almost-night sky was that incredible shade of dark cobalt blue that you only see when the air is perfectly clear and free of moisture. The cobalt shaded to a bright turquoise at the horizon where the sun had gone down earlier. There was a perfect, full moon. I thought about how this sort of natural beauty can transcend everything else and how short-lived it is. That evening I decided to make the most of the week of summer that I had left. I wanted to:

Walk at night, away from the lights, and admire the deep blue of the sky, the almost-full moon, and the mysterious dark shadows cast by the moonlight; smell the fermenting fallen fruit that’s just on the verge of molding, the breath of the dry herbs and lavender as they heave a sign of relief in the sudden darkness; feel the chill creeping into the night air, foreshadowing the months to come.

Run in the middle of the day, inhale the champagne-bubbly, bone-dry air and broil in my own sweat; smell the sharp amber scent of cedar, fir, and arborvitae trees baking in the sun like the best norlimbanol on earth, the scent of roses throwing out their last, water-starved extravaganza of wilted petals and concentrated perfume, and the mineral-spiked dust kicked up by my feet.

Pick and eat all the sweet figs from our trees, so fat, ripe, and juicy that they split open in their exuberance.

Feel cathartic outbursts of rage mixed with admiration every time I see a blackberry vine that’s grown 40 feet overnight, scrambling over trees, walls, fences, and ditches to put out a swollen grow-tip, engorged with life and throbbing with the desire to grow roots that will burrow down into the hard soil and produce more of its kind; feel the joy of taking my pruning shears to it and cutting it into small pieces the way a soldier would kill an enemy.

Go into my back garden with bare feet and feel the pavement, soil, and dead grass warm underfoot; watch the hummingbirds zip and sip from the brightest-colored flowers; feel the hot sun on my skin, hotter even than when it was high in the sky at the solstice, but with that indescribable nostalgic feel of Indian summer.

I've done all of these things. For the past week I haven't tested any perfumes because I need a break and don't want perfume-sniffing to become a self-imposed homework assignment. When I come back to it, it will be with a new nose and a new sense of delight, making the inevitable discipline of fall just a little sweeter. 

[All photos adapted from Wikimedia]