How can it be the end of August? I couldn’t chase July away no matter how much I wanted to see the end of it. One day it was “Ah, August at last!” And the next seemingly, it was “wait — you can’t be leaving?” It’s impossible to put a label on it, but there is something about August I love. While some of the pleasures of summer remain, there is a welcome hint of fall in the air. Neither a fresh new start like spring, nor the golden beauty of autumn, August is somewhere in between, leading from one to the other; not too unlike the middle child who has neither place as oldest nor youngest, but is doted on by all. Yes, August is dry, and at the onset it is still hot, generally speaking. Stories from my mother told of unbearable heat, driving from Cleveland, Ohio to Kentucky in August, with no air-conditioning, no interstate highways, taking most of two days, and a strong desire to see family propelling them on down the road. Her memories should have made August a dreaded time, but not so. In between the hot highways and getting home, were rest stops — tales of grassy areas to enjoy a cold drink, a bologna sandwich, and kicking off their shoes. The sights, sounds, and feel of August in Kentucky are some of my favorites!

There’s a particular feel as the humidity begins to drift away on late summer breezes; and with it goes our need to get out a couple hours earlier to beat the heat. As August moves along, the hot air moves out and the mornings are scrumptiously inviting. An 87 degree afternoon is quite bearable when the day begins and ends in the 50’s and 60’s.  I recall the relief of watching one tobacco patch after another empty out — out of heavy wet blankets of July work; out of the fear of summer storms’ damage; and into the more pleasant tasks of firing, or curing. The dusty ground left behind, and the smoke trail from the barns, had the feel and smell of success.

I love the sound of cicadas chipping their way through a quiet afternoon, when the traffic sounds have quieted from carrying the people to wherever they were going, and before their returning home in the evening. If I am lucky, it’s a day when the nearby train tracks send out the lonesome sound of a train whistle, and I always smile; knowing the train is somewhere in between it’s coming and going, places I don’t need to know — only that I love its sound. The corn fields are talking as the stalks have dried to a two-toned green and gold, leaves rustling and tan tassels whispering their way through the day. August is hummingbird jamboree, heard clearly as they chase and chatter, performing acrobatics mid-air. Their activity alone, is cause for some to look forward to August. We miss the songs of Purple Martins who began their trek to Brazil last month, but the sweet chirping of goldfinches in the drying sunflowers more than makes up for it.  The bluebirds aren’t singing as they did in mating season, but their laughter as they all return home to splash in the birdbaths, is unmistakably their own. 

Butterflies, a beautiful August sight, are more numerous now than in early summer, as if relishing every last blossom while they can. Zinnias and crepe myrtles make a strong southern stand, offering the butterflies and hummingbirds an all-you-care-to-eat buffet. Unfortunately, the departing humidity also took many of the bright colors we enjoyed in spring and summer. Even so, the brightness of Black-Eyed Susans and sunflowers, shines brighter against the paling or absent garden colors. But for a farm girl, the garden growing tired means less work; and there’s the pleasure of a pantry growing fat with newly filled jars. Skies are blue again like springtime; often so velvety cloudless, I feel I ought to be able to touch the sky if I just stretch a little bit higher. 

Although not everyone gets to turn a year older in August as I do, we all turn a page as students begin a new school chapter; farmers get to see a light at the end of their harvest tunnel; and we are all one season wiser, older, and richer in blessings. As Labor Day approaches, families have made memories visiting and vacationing, and now prepare for fall and winter activities. Wherever we are in life, may we pause a moment to salute one season rustling by, and look down the road, with hope, to greet another.  

“The day is Yours (O God), the night also is Yours; You have prepared the light and the sun. You have set all the borders of the earth; You have made summer and winter.” Psalm 74: 16-17 NKJV