Sunday, September 7, 2014

Summer Is Ticking Away

...Or has it gone?

August has flown by and September has come, and yet this year's summer remains unsung by me. I had to complete my summer travels first before the details would slip from my memory. Now that the series have been written up, I can go on with my yearly summer tribute.

This season is a constant favorite of most people living in countries close to the Arctic Circle, let alone in northern hemisphere. And I'm caught up in that drift. I used to dislike summer (that's how we call the driest and hottest season) in the Philippines, and I still do whenever I'm there for a visit, on account of the extreme heat, the sweating, the pollution and the thick crowd. But it's quite another story here.

Summer here is lovable, what with all the fantastic sceneries and lush, colorful flowers that bloom in succession.

The early part of my summer this year has been spent traveling to the south, which means that I missed the early facets of this season in our corner of the country. I missed the aura of the midsummer day when the sun doesn't set at all and the air is filled with festivities. I missed the buttercup and queen anne's lace meadows that I keep looking forward to every year, as well as the lilac bushes that are covered all over with their sweet-scented flowers. Oh well, there were a few lilac bushes in the park that still had blossoms left for me to feast my eyes on.

Sure, summer had still much in store for me, presenting a string of variety of flowers that came and went, and different berries. I still had much to delight in.

When we arrived from our holiday, the grass and other vegetation bore telltale  signs of a dry summer. The aridity went on for several weeks in a row. This was actually the warmest summer I've experienced since I moved here, so hot that it was even termed tropical summer (with temp. of around 30 degrees C) I literally bathed in my sweat as I went about my works. While others enjoyed the warmth, I almost detested it. I've had enough of such heat where I came from, and I prefer the comfortably cold summer of the Arctic zone.

After the torrid weeks came the misty and rainy days that brought life to the parched ground, transforming the pallid grasses to vibrant green. The astilbe and purple loosestrife that we planted in our little flower bed last year bloomed beautifully.

Then the rains slowed down to slight showers. And the sun made its daily appearance, if not for the whole day, at least, for most part of the day and lingered in the night, never failing to set the sky beautifully ablaze every evening. We were back to the typical Swedish summer with its slightly cold smack.

Meanwhile, during this season, our city had undergone a "face-lift". The park down the river had completely transformed from an old-style secluded  greenery to a more spacious and modernized look. Although I miss the old one, I've also come to love this new one. It looks livelier since more people frequent it, enjoying the novelty of the place.

There's also a pool where everyone is free to dip his/her feet in the cool water when the sun is scorchingly hot.

The culture building beside the park is almost done too. Looks to me like this will become the main landmark of the city.

The west side of the main city bridge has an improved appearance too.

This summer, I was able to witness the August 10 supermoon, though I read from here that the term "supermoon" should not be the right word since it's not really that super and that term originated from modern astrology and not astronomy. You may read the explanation from the link I provided. So back to the super... I mean mega(?) moon, I followed its development from its waxing phase to its fullness. Sadly, though, in the actual night of the phenomena, the sky in this part of the earth turned cloudy and partially covered the moon. I wrote a simple haiku of this.

supermoon came up
dark clouds sailed by and thickened
masking its bright face

I was able to pick blueberries and raspberries from around our neigborhood. We didn't have the chance to go to the woods in the countryside to really pick berries on account of hubby's poor health.

Unfortunately too, we haven't used our tent at all this year (for the first summertime) and I'm still sighing over that. We haven't been to the mountains yet either. So I missed some of our usual nature-bonding trips this summer. 

These past days have been wonderful. The sky is clear blue and sometimes patched with beautiful cloud patterns.

The lingering warm summer air  is tinged with the crisp coldness of autumn. Some trees are beginning to change colors. Last Friday, I spotted this first striking sign of the upcoming season. Set against the cerulean sky, the subject tells us how lovely that day had been.

My favorite objects of interest in this marginal time between summer and fall are the fully matured clusters of rowan berries and apples clinging heavily to every twig. They're all there to make my day.

Now, darkness slowly seizes a portion of the long daylight. The ancient sun can no longer ascend to the zenith and is starting to roll down just above the horizon.

A burst of blazing colors is just around the bend.