August 26th

10:00 AM

The sun is ripening in the sky as I stand alone at the top of the concrete stairs looking over the backyard. A yellow jacket buzzes back and forth one step beneath my sandals. It is frenetic, always seeking, never resting. As I step down towards the grass I seem to provoke the agitated insect into elevating his position and zipping towards me at odds with my mood. I swat it away with a backhand and bend down to admire the alyssum. Each of the little flowers have 4 petals surrounding 6 golden anthers waving from stamen no longer than a hang nail. The flowers grow together in colorful clusters; spherical atmospheres of lilac, white and violet. Not even a small band of flies loitering around the honey scented garden comets can stain their delicate beauty.

The grapes on our vines have become purple and globular. They always sneak up on me this time of year. I never notice them until their plumpness starts snapping their stems and they fall to the ground in wrinkly heaps. I pluck one off a bunch on the vine. It is covered with a thin haze of powder or dust. I rub it with the end of my finger and hold it in the shadow cast by the garage so I can see my reflection inside its deep purple colour. It's like a miniature crystal ball in the palm of my hand. I pop it in my mouth and crush it between my teeth to savor the sweet juiciness that squirts over my tongue. This year I might blend them into juice and make popsicles.

Further on in the shadow of the narrow corridor between the two garages, ours and the neighbours, the grass is cool. As I pass back into a patch of sun the dew glistens like diamonds on the tips of the green blades. I recognize red tomatoes on the plants behind the bench and head over there to gather ingredients for salsa that I'll make for our party later in the day.

10:03 AMRead more