A field of summer

It’s a true summer’s day –  blue sky above with white patchy clouds, and the sun is beating down with its warmth.  We are driving along some county roads in northern Wisconsin.  We’ve passed fields of green soybeans and acres of corn, all thriving in spite of the late planting season and the copious amounts of rain this year.  But up ahead is a bright and welcome sight — at an intersection there is a sea of yellow on one side of the road.  It stretches off to the trees in the distance, and it is a glorious field of sunflowers.  Faces to the east, backlit by the sun, the large blossoms are nodding in the wind.  To me this is the epitome of summer, and I’ll soak it in to remember during the not-so-summery days that lie ahead.

Water lilies

As we enter the last third of summer, our lakes in Minnesota and Wisconsin are starting to bloom with water lilies.  Looking across the water surface you can see areas of white and yellow.  We’ve seen muskrats enjoying a meal of water lilies, and deer will also wade into the water to graze on them.  This water lily is not endanger of being eaten as I photographed it at the Marjorie McNeely Conservatory in Como Park.  Like its “wild” relatives it was happy to open its petals to the bright sun and soak up the trailing end of summer.

Oars and a paddle

Sometimes photographs present themselves directly — a beautiful sunset reflected in a lake, or a lovely flower that opens its blossoms to reveal its textures and colors.  And other times a photograph can be more subtle, calling out for attention many times before it’s actually received.  I walked past this shed countless times, looking at it but not really noticing it.  And then one morning the sunlight came in from an angle and illuminated the oars and paddle with a lovely glow.  That’s when I saw it.  The oars with their oar locks are weather beaten and old; they show their wear and tear proudly.  The paddle lost its paint many years ago and is actually cracked at the bottom.  The collection struck me as a homage to summer days, old boats, old resorts, and probably some big fishing tales.

A colorful flourish to the end of summer

Last week I celebrated what now seems to have been a colorful flourish to the end of summer.  I sent some time at the McNeely Conservatory in Como Park.  The sunken garden was filled with its summer flowers, scents, and  colors.  Since that day our weather has been gray, cloudy, rainy, and much cooler — anything but summer-like.  How lucky I was to have soaked up the last bright colors of summer!

Summer and stillness

Summer seems to be associated with activities — the longer days give us more time to play and enjoy the sun, warmth, and water.  But sometimes we’re reminded that quiet and peacefulness are just as important during the summer.  We’d had heavy rains the previous day and the temperatures were moderate.  In the morning we woke to a thick fog that initially covered the entire lake and blocked the trees on the opposite shore.  As the sun feebly tried to break through the fog, the shoreline became more visible.  There was no wind –  only stillness.  It was a quiet and tranquil time.  The fog was in no hurry to burn off, and the morning was taking its own sweet time.  It seemed to be a reminder to slow down and enjoy all the moods of summer as it will soon fade into autumn.