Benjamuna's Blog

Stories…. with a touch of India….

The last sunday of august September 13, 2015

Filed under: Flowers — benjamuna @ 6:17 am
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Cosmos_4

It’s one of these rare August days, when summer has decided to reappear. If it hadn’t been for the wind, it would have been too hot. At the same time, the wind annoys me. It grabs hold of the flowers in an aggressive way, but sometimes thinks better of it and change its course, or even abruptly slows down.

The right corner of my terrace has been a symphony in pink this summer. I love to sit here and just watch, admire rather. If it were early spring I would think out new ideas, leap to my feet, rearrange some pots, and then sit down. Whereas now, I let everything be. Some flowers are gone. I have trashed them without sentimentality, the black soil is gaping at me.

The climbers are among my favourites. The Clematis has unexpectedly produced maroon flowers all summer long, and the delicate leaves still look beautiful. The Perennial Pea still forces its way up the espalier. The wind and the heavy rain have made the greenery ruffled, but the few delicate, pink flowers attract my attention again and again.

I can still smell the lilac Petunias. All summer long, the strong and overwhelming smell has wafted through my open bedroom window on weekend early mornings. It’s not really a point to care for them any longer, but I make a mental note to keep exactly the same arrangement next summer. Never change a winning team, I conclude with satisfaction.

My small vegetable garden didn’t work out. The Basil drowned before I realised it didn’t like the rain. And I was never able to sprinkle my pizza with Rocket from the garden. It simply didn’t thrive. The Chive has willingly grown without hesitation all summer long though.

The sun comes and goes and reminds me that autumn is on its way. I look for my jacket every other ten minute, when a sky has taken the sun into prison. It gets surprisingly dark, as if somebody has turned off the light. I shudder and remove my sun glasses. I think of all the rainy days this summer and how they were perfect for soft photography. But all the time we were longing for the sun.

The wind comes from nowhere, attacks my hair, the sweat peas next to me move abruptly and gives out a strong smell, the newspaper left casually on the floorboards shifts position and rustles together with the trees. I should be going inside, I should go to my computer and write this down, or work on some photos, do anything that matters….Instead I grab my book, and once again wrap my jacket tightly around me. But the next second I let it go, and I pick up my sunglasses that are left carelessly on the floor.

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