Ah! the year is slowly dying,
And the wind in tree-top sighing,
Chants a requiem.
~Mary Weston Fordham
In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those
with mossy, warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come —
six, a dozen — to sleep inside their bodies?
And don’t you hear the goldenrod
whispering goodbye… And
the wind pumping its bellows.
~Excerpted lines from
a poem by Mary Oliver
The tempest comes out of its chamber, the cold from the driving winds. ~Job 37:9 ✝
August ends today,
and yet summer will continue
by force to grow more days.
They sprout secretly between
the chapters of the year,
covertly between its pages.
~Adapted and edited quote by
Jonathan Safran Foer
Sail away, sail, sail away–oh wretched month of August that brings into such sharp focus the “furious boil” of Texas summers. Your daily assaults of sweltering heat test my sanity, my stamina, and my endurance! As the beast of sizzling nastiness that you are, you’ve successfully bathed the landscape in drab browns and beiges by keeping nary a drop of rain from falling, day after day after drought-ridden day. But, alas and alack, your time coin will be spent at midnight today! And even though the heat of your volcano-like fury will linger a bit longer, at least there are a few visible signs that autumn is on the way. So it is with a huge grin and a hopeful heart that I say goodbye and good riddance!
I cared for you in the wilderness, in the land of the burning heat. ~Hosea 13:5 ✝
There are two means of refuge
from the misery of life –
music and cats.
This post is in loving memory of Tuxie, our 10 month old kitten, who lost his battle for life today. We have never known a sweeter boy, and it is the greatest of sadness knowing that he’ll never again hug our necks in the night or brighten our days with joy. Goodbye our sweet, sweet boy. We pray you are being held in the loving arms of an angel.
Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my body and soul with grief. Psalm 31:9 ✝