the sun’s egg yolk eye in late summer



The sun’s egg yolk eye of new possibility rises lower on the horizon these days.  It’s starting to gab with the tree tops here in the woods.  Some of the leaves turn starstruck with yellow, amazed that the sun pauses to talk with them. “To think,” some of the more spiritual ones whisper, “he even cares about us!”

Cold slips through the moon’s teeth at this time of year.  You can’t see your breath under a full moon at midnight yet.  (Not that I’d know.  I’m asleep, dreaming, missing all the dark’s secrets.)  

In the morning you debate:  yes, no, maybe so.  Should I start a fire in the wood stove?  How much do you want to shiver early morning as you sip your steaming tea?  Shall I wear my hooded 2000 University of Michigan sweatshirt over pajamas and burrow beneath the pink blanket?  

I told Barry–no fire this morning.  I’ll tough it out.  He puttered away to work in the silver Buick.  No need to scrape the car’s window yet.

Guess I lied.  Match soon struck against box sending the sun’s cousin–firelight–working its magic against tree bark, igniting another early September blaze.  

Another day, another blaze

Another day, another blaze

Don’t get me wrong.  It’s supposed to be warm today.  75 (24 C) delicious degrees.  I love late summer.  Love, love, love late summer.  The world feels like tepid bath water, so close to your skin.  The cicadas sing, their legs like earthy violins.  

Wasps lazily float by and you don’t cry out.  They won’t sting you.  Don’t panic. They feel winter’s urgency in their wasp-wings and they’re pondering the sun’s fickle angle.  Like all the forest creatures, they sense change.  They know cold’s a’comin’ and they’re doing what wasps do.  

I won’t Google:  what happens to wasps in winter?  You can, if you like.  I’m just going to stay here in the realm of not-knowing, watching their dance. My mind doesn’t want any more facts.  It just wants to fly with the wasps.

Or the chickadees.  Or the great immature bald eagle perched on the treetop across the bay yesterday.  Why are immature eagles brown and white, when someday their heads and tails sport majestic ethereal white and their massive-bird bodies shine in jet black?  

I don’t care.  You can Google the whys and wherefores, if you like.

Late summer afternoon sunshine

Late summer afternoon sunshine

Late summer teases you lazy.  Your fingers don’t want to lift if you’re sitting in the afternoon sun baking.  The cold snit of morning trails memory, like it never happened.  You can hardly remember starting that fire in the wood stove.  Admit it.

But get up lazy bones.  You must receipt taxes.  You must work to earn your earthly wage.  You must scribble name & date on your newly canned Dilly Beans and carry to the bowels of the basement, the food room, the modern-day equivalent of root cellar.  

What name, what name, on the Dilly Beans?  Barry and I vie for the silliest or most entertaining names.  It’s what we journalism graduates do for fun. I named the first batch of salsa–in which he unceremoniously dumped an entire co-op packet of cumin– “The Great Cumin Caper.”

What shall I name the Dilly Beans?  How about: “Rattled Dillies”?  Since they’re Rattlesnake Beans, you know.  Then you carefully record the date:  9/4/13 and wait six to eight weeks before opening the jar, so insists the recipe, and dare we disobey the recipe?

I love this old pic of a rattlesnake bean.  See its eye?  Ha ha

I love this old pic of a rattlesnake bean. See its eye? Ha ha

Oh, there’s basil to blend into more pesto.  There’s more beans to pick.  And fat red tomatoes which we’ll now try in Pico de Gallo, which of course you know is like uncooked salsa, natural sun-kissed raw vegetables blending together to tantalize the tongue, of course we can add some more cumin, Barry.

Never-ending late summer work when all you want to do is laze with a good book on the deck come afternoon.  What good book, you ask?  I just finished The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty, nothing too deep, light reading, and salivated, mesmerized, until the end, eager to discover the whys and wherefores.  I won’t give anything away except the very final epilogue shares something you’d never imagine.  Don’t you love when a good book captures you thus?

The sun’s egg yolk eye of possibility rises higher.  I could type snippets all day, or at least until breakfast, but will cease now.  You commenters might share tidbits about the latest good book you’ve devoured, or how much you love late summer, or did you have sunny-side-up eggs for breakfast?  

About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
This entry was posted in September 2013 and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

66 Responses to the sun’s egg yolk eye in late summer

  1. Elisa says:

    I cannot yet think of a comment, busy, as I am with finally enough cinnamon in tea, admiring, counting, and questing after the center of new and miniature brown eyed susan plants under the window–why Susan and not Millicent, no matter I might go off and put in new beet seeds, replace the ones that died (that I killed) during transplant, put them directly into the ground, will the mixed greens grow best, attractively, next to the broccoli and collards, next to the tomatoes and move the beets–I like the sun’s yolk, no longer that stark white that I recalled upon reading another blog in another address this morning, also noting this description of the yellow–both the rising and the fall. The cinnamon tingles my insides. Good morning Kathy.

    • Kathy says:

      Elisa, do you put powdered or stick cinnamon in your tea? Do you have lots of things in your garden? Do you like collards better than kale? I liked this picture of the egg yolk–found it from years ago and played artistically with it for a few minutes before placing it here. May have scrambled eggs with bunching onions from the garden tomorrow. IF there’s enough eggs in the frig. Happy weekend!

      • Elisa says:

        Stick!! Deffo stick! Well, I dunno what is ‘lots’. I have beans, zucchini, green peppers, cauliflower, broccoli, nasturtiums, collards and dead beets. Tonight I will have much better newly seeded beets and mixed greens for salad. Yes I love eating collards. Kale, I am not that experienced in cooking and it’s gritty/sandy feeling in my mouth. Happy weekend. Oh, I noted from a fly-by read about the non pressure canner dangers. One can get botulism from canning improperly. There is suppppoooosed to be a way to avoid this and to still safely use the hot water thingie by adding enough of the proper acid for the substance one cans. It all scares me, so I just don’t bother. Eat fresh or blanch n freeze is my choice. The local ag extention offices have excellent safety recommendations and recipes for those without–ours does anyway. Eggs are yummy.

        • Kathy says:

          Oh yes, you have to include the proper amount of vinegar/lemon to avoid botulism challenges. And guess what! A local woman happened upon my blog and read this post and left a lengthy message on the answering machine all worried that we weren’t adding the proper amount of acid!! I love eating fresh. Not that fond of either eating frozen or canned, but alas, it seems we sometimes have to.

  2. The Hypnotist’s Love Story by the same author will keep you on the edge of your seat–I bought it because it had the word hypnotist in it and was not disappointed–not great literature but a great read.
    Always enjoy your posts–your creativity, your whimsy, your lovely and unusual way with words………….

    • Kathy says:

      LouAnn, you are the second person to recommend the Hypnotist’s Love Story. I have bought it and am reacting just as you said. It’s fascinating. I like this author because she shows the many things that go through our minds–and that none of her characters (thus far) are pure good or pure evil. We’re all a mix. And we can be SO unexpected. Thank you for liking my posts. That really means a lot.

      • I like that about her–that she gives the characters depth and understanding even when in real life we might not
        Kathy I am so happy to have found your blog and “met” you — I feel I have made some true friends in the blog world and you are one

        • Kathy says:

          That is so very nice, LouAnn. On a dreary rainy Saturday afternoon your words fill me with warmth. I, too, am glad that we’ve found friendship here in the blogging world.

  3. shirley khodja says:

    Love, love, love your posting today. I will never again hear the rustle of the leaves without imagining them whispering about the sun’s attention. Thank you.

    • Kathy says:

      Shirley, what a wonderful thing to say! You and I shall listen to those leaves rustle and try to overhear what they’re saying, won’t we? Come back and tell me if they ever say anything really enticing!

  4. Heather says:

    Even though we slept with the windows open last night, I toughed it out without a fire. But late summer promises to bring fall splendor, and I am finally beginning to look forward to it.
    I know the professed whys and wherefores of the wasps and eagles – the wasps because of an anaphylactic shock-inducing allergy, and the eagles because of the biology nerd inside. But I’ll leave you happily in your carefree state.
    I think the recipe states 6 to 8 weeks, because then you’ll firmly be out of summer, and the summer’s produce will taste marvelous 😉

    • Kathy says:

      You know, Heather, when I read that Forest book–what was the name of it?–The Forest Unseen–I was fascinated by the whys and wherefores. Kiah is also reading it and I think enjoying it. Sometimes facts are soooo interesting and other times, well, not so much. Hope you are enjoying your weekend. Guess what it did unexpectedly today? RAIN. It wasn’t supposed to. We have been pressure-washing the front porch and deck in preparation for staining.

  5. My favourite time of year and not much time for reading though I am working my way through “I’m Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen” by Sylvie Simons and several art books on the life and work of the American Abstract Expressionist Richard Diebenkorn. This and watching the series Mad Men on Netflix. Hence, I have spent much of the summer in the North American time of my childhood learning about events, art and music that was not really part of my rural experience at all. It seem most of this didn’t reach me until the 70s. Of course I have painted. Late summer is the time when my love affair with still life painting comes into full blossom. But the midday light is starting to become rich an swarm again so I shall be back to my camera expedition along the sea. Enjoy the changing colours Kathy 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Terrill, I’ll bet that book about Leonard Cohen is utterly fascinating. I have long admired him, and don’t know much about him. Do not know anything about Mad Men. Love your description of your love affair with still life painting blossoming in late summer. You have such an artist’s soul. You seem to bloom in color wherever you go and however you express yourself.

  6. What a lovely post, as usual! Yes, the cool nights are a reminder that Fall is here and Winter is not far behind it. The summer seems to be whisked away quicker with each passing year. All the plans I had for the summer, most didn’t get done. Maybe it was because of that indecision trait discussed in your last post! At any rate, another school year has begun. Maybe I won’t answer that early morning call – at least for this week, so I can spend it with Hubby. 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Oh, doesn’t the summer pass so quickly, withershins? In a blink of our eye! All those plans… We are trying to get some done right now. Power-washing and staining the deck and front porch. Getting new bathroom linoleum. Trying to prepare the new garage addition for winter. So much to do before the leaves fall!

  7. Susan D says:

    How I love your snippets — I could go on reading them all day — your descriptions are so true. So true. Ahhhh — thank you for this today. Wonderful photos, too. Little birds flit by my window as I type this … one is flying your way.

    • Kathy says:

      Susan Dee, I could have written snippets for a LONG time! Wondering how long one could write snippets before running out of them… So very happy for your writing success lately. Almost called you on the cell going through Baraga yesterday to tell you that again. You are the cat’s pajamas!

  8. lisaspiral says:

    Snippets are exactly right for this weather. We’re getting a weekend of heat again, but the nights have been cool and the mornings chilly. I like being wrapped up in a warm sweater with a hot cup of tea in my hand. There were a pair of wild turkeys in the yard yesterday morning. We must be moving into fall. I got to read a bunch at my folks last weekend, now I just have to write the book reviews for that book blog of mine!

    • Kathy says:

      Lisa, you are so very lucky to see wild turkeys in your yard. How cool is that? I would love to see them. They mostly don’t come this far north, although sometimes you see them in recent years. Glad to hear you’ve been reading a bunch. Are you enjoying your book review blog?

  9. Kathy – I adore the word picture you painted:

    “The sun’s egg yolk eye of new possibility rises lower on the horizon these days. It’s starting to gab with the tree tops here in the woods. Some of the leaves turn starstruck with yellow, amazed that the sun pauses to talk with them. “To think,” some of the more spiritual ones whisper, “he even cares about us!”

    And then went on to add brilliant strokes of the sun’s cousin — fire.

    This is my favorite time of year, too. Late, late summer; early, early fall. Yes!

    • Kathy says:

      Oh how sweet, Laurie, that you’d highlight the word pictures. I love writing word pictures. Sometimes I think–I shall only write word pictures from now until the last word is typed. And then the next minute something else is arising from the typing fingers. So glad to hear you love this time of year, too!

  10. john says:

    This time is so wonderful and you have captured it so sublimely. I love the quality of the light through the trees. I love feeling like you own empty Second Sand Beach after Labor Day. I am reading Joyce this fall and enjoying that.

    • Kathy says:

      Oh, John, thank you! I love the word “sublime”. (As much as the light through the trees.) You make me want to go over to Second Sand Beach and visit it again. Haven’t been there One Time this summer, shame on me. You are also making me want to read something a little more deep. Have never read Joyce, though. Hope to catch sight of you and Jenny sometime! Call and we’ll go out to the Finns again, eh?

  11. Pingback: The Melancholy of Fall or a Painters Depression | Creativepotager's Blog

  12. lucindalines says:

    Good to read your post again, as always, such poetry. I love this time of year too, and thanks to my hard working husband, I stay home at least a few days each week waiting for the phone to ring so I can go sub and earn a few $ to add to the coffers.

    • Kathy says:

      Isn’t it nice to have a hard-working husband so you don’t have to have a full-time job? I feel the same way. Although these two part-time jobs sometimes FEEL like a full-time job. Hope you get exactly as many sub jobs as you want/need this year. And thanks for your compliment about the writing. I love writing like this.

  13. Ah, I read this like inhaling a savory poem – slowly and willfully and happily. Your words make me happy, thinking of you flying around like a wasp, not google-ing one darn thing, just feeling the warm-bath air on your wings. Such great imagery.
    I finished The Language of Flowers, a lovely, bittersweet book. Now I’ve entered the city of Florence thanks to Dan Brown’s Inferno. And then, I’ll be off to learn the husband’s secret…

    • Kathy says:

      Ahhhh, I am glad you had happy words flying around in your head after reading this, Pam, and not wasp-sting words. Phew…. Hey, I’ll be talking to you soon. Really, really soon….

  14. sybil says:

    I bought a big canning pot and canning jars and one of those grippy things to grab the hot jars.

    I’ve never canned a thing in my life.

    Now I’ve bought all this stuff I’m not sure what to do next.

    Care to start me off with a Salsa recipe ?

    Read ? Books ? Gotta overcome my TV addiction first …

    • Kathy says:

      Yikes, Sybil, we’ve been making salsa so many years we haven’t written the recipe down. I think you’d better Google and find an Official one because I don’t want to poison you. A lady in our community found my blog the other day and called me up and left a long message on the answering machine. She was appalled at the thought that I did home water-bath canning and I might not be using vinegar or lemon in the salsa and could be poisoning Barry and me!!! (Yes, Marcy, we use 1/2 cup vinegar in the salsa. No, we haven’t been poisoned yet. Please, God.) So find a good recipe, Syb, and give a try. Better yet, does Amy-Lynn know how to can? Corral her in for assistance. That’s the best way to learn. Let me know how it goes…

  15. Barb says:

    Hi Kathy, Good to catch up with you and your world. Funny – my daughter just texted me yesterday about the Moriarty book. I put it on my Kindle samples which I always do before buying. My tomatoes are finally coming in – I planted 3 bushes but only 2 survived. We had heirlooms sliced with balsamic reduction, olive oil, and fresh basil (grown in my flower crock on the deck) with dinner. So good! (I didn’t use cumin though.) Mary says it’s been rainy/cold off and on in Eagle Harbor. Hope your leaf show is spectacular this year.

    • Kathy says:

      Barb, isn’t that synchronistic? Do you like light reads like that? I just typed this to LouAnn in the comments up above: I like this author because she shows the many things that go through our minds–and that none of her characters (thus far) are pure good or pure evil. We’re all a mix. And we can be SO unexpected.

      Where DO you buy balsamic reduction? My mom and sister-in-law love it. Or do you make it on your own? Mmmm, sounds good. We have had rainy/cold and we have had hot/humid. A little of both. Not a good gardening year, though.

  16. bonnie says:

    Beautiful post. You have such a way with words. Chilly morning here, but a promise of putting the red in the apples.

    • Kathy says:

      Bonnie, why thank you. How NICE to see you again! You must be back in the blogging world. I shall have to go see soon. You had a way with words in this sentence: a promise of putting the red in the apples. Lovely image.

  17. Lovely lines of snippets to start the humid southern summer Friday. 101 today…no yellow leaves to whisper; no fires to start to keep warm; just the whir of the fans as I think, just perhaps, I might have that yard sale tomorrow after all…what does it matter that it will be 101 in the shade?

    • Kathy says:

      Hi, Linda, I can simply hardly imagine 101 degrees. Almost can imagine the whir of fans… Hope you sell lots at the yard sale! Those can be fun. I grew up going to “flea markets” with my collector dad.

  18. P.j. grath says:

    You always do have great headlines, Kathy. Now I know: you were a journalism major!

    • Kathy says:

      Pamela, did you think this was a catchy headline? I didn’t think it was. This post actually got much fewer readers than most.There seems such an art to writing headlines. You have to be catchy but not sensationalist. And sometimes that distinction is VERY hard to find!

  19. Sometimes I enjoy being in “the realm of not-knowing,” too, and other times I feel compelled to do research and identify!

    I recently finished “Margaret Fuller: A New American Life” by Megan Marshall. It amazed me how such a meticulous biography could be created using the letters written to Fuller, and the letters she wrote, AND the letters others wrote to each other which mentioned something about her. Not sure it would be possible for a future biographer to write so thoroughly about someone who lived in our century.

    Love Autumn – it means less heat and humidity, not to mention harvest time and leaf peeping!

    • Kathy says:

      Barbara, I so agree with your perception. Sometimes I am fascinated with facts, too. The most recent example was the book “The Forest Unseen”. Was totally smitten with forest facts during that entire reading!

      The biography about Margaret Fuller sounds very cool. Much deeper than the *light* reads I’ve been enjoying lately. Glad to hear you’re another autumn lover…

  20. Dawn says:

    I loved The Hypnotists Love Story too…right now I’m reading The Cuckoo’s Calling by JK Rowling…and enjoying it. I’ll add your book to my ‘want to read’ list on Goodreads…

    I love late summer too…but would love it more if we moved into fall, had about one month of cold and then dove right back into spring. Can you arrange that?

    • Kathy says:

      Dawn, now I’m reading the Hypnotists Love Story and am totally hypnotized by it! Can you imagine being pursued by a stalker?? How you might feel…

      Will try to arrange your quick movement from fall to spring. However, Barry might just throttle me. He so loves cold weather and his ice fishing. Sigh….

  21. Karma says:

    I love late summer, as I love all of summer, although I find it bittersweet. I’m never ready to wish summer “au revoir” until next year. I hope today could be a good day to bask in that afternoon warmth. I’ll take yours and Dawn’s recommendations for good books – I’m currently reading middle-schooler’s book “Wonder” because it was our school’s summer reading book, and discussions on it will begin soon.

    • Kathy says:

      Are you enjoying that book “Wonder”, Karma? Sometimes it’s really fun to read middle-school books. I like to prowl through our school library and look for good ones. Wishing we could bask in enough warmth to see us through the winter…

      • Karma says:

        It is actually a pretty good book. The reading level is so that even fairly young middle schoolers can understand, but the story is very good. The author’s name is R.J. Palacio if you are interested in checking it out.

  22. bearyweather says:

    I wish the 3 months off from summer took place in the late summer and fall instead of Spring and early summer when the bugs, rain and mud disrupt outside plans. The weather is perfect (in my opinion) in the Fall. We still have a lot of heat (90 and humid) this week and the yellow jackets are crazy (the ones here are quick to sting). Missing the loons (they left my small lake a week to two ago … for socializing on the big lakes) and the hummingbirds are almost all gone … just a few females and juveniles hanging around and battling the yellow jackets for the last of the flower nectar
    Thanks for this relaxing post ….

    • Kathy says:

      Ohmygoodness, bearyweather, I had already (mostly) forgotten those bugs, rain and mud. We were supposed to have a bit of heat this week but our high only reached about 81 yesterday. Today was supposed to be 78 and partly cloudy but everything turned cattywampus and it was 60 and drizzly! Hey, what kind of weather forecast was that? The female hummingbirds are still hanging around here, too. Can you tell the difference between a juvenile hummer and an adult? I haven’t developed that skill. Yet.

  23. Sara says:

    Your writing talent shines in this piece! I enjoyed every word.

  24. pearlz says:

    Absolutely beautiful writing Kathy. You capture the moments and make them sing.

  25. coastalcrone says:

    Fall will not come for some time here in South Texas but I will be ready for it. Hummingbirds are hitting our three feeders so it must be September at least.

    Yes, the school house in “The Birds” does look like yours.

    • Kathy says:

      Dear Coastalcrone, oh good, now I know you’re from South Texas. Our male hummingbirds have been gone for a week or two, but the females are still hanging around. They’ll be headed your way soon. Don’t know what I think about the similarity in school houses…lol. So far we’ve been safe.

  26. I WIlkerson says:

    My daughter just asked for a hoodie–to sleep in–at college. Fall is coming! I just read Defending Jacob for book club and canned a whole lot of fruit including pears from our own trees!

    • Kathy says:

      Inger, yep, fall is about here. It’s fun to cuddle in hoodies and stay warm. Today, however, is nice and warm, about 72 degrees. Envious of you for having pears from your very own trees. Lucky you!

  27. Colleen says:

    I love your snippets Kathy. The images they paint are as clear and as beautiful as Terrill’s paintings. I’m slowly making my way home, feeling the first sense of fall here in Montana. Enjoying the coolness and the mountains.

    • Kathy says:

      Oh Colleen how lovely to see you! And thank you for liking the painted word pictures. They are so fun to splash on the white page with the finger’s paint brushes. (Did that metaphor work, lol?) Wishing I could be in the car driving like you. And seeing mountains. Can’t imagine the joy of that.

  28. I am so late commenting. Accidently deleted your blog notice and then forgot. I seem to be too busy too remember or is it I am old and its easy to forget. Anyhoo, I like what you have written but then no matter what or how you write it is always good. The egg in the skillet looks so good, especially if it is a “home grown” egg or one that was produced by a free range chicken.

    Kathy, I’ve not read a book in a long time. I don’t have the time to devote to an actual novel. But I like to read.

    Now about those chilly mornings. It is already cold where you are? Fathom tthat. It was just yesterday that you were still having snow in May or was it early June? The growing season is so short. Must be all of 3 months? Here in Central Texas it is very hot and we are back in a drought.


    • Kathy says:

      Yvonne, no worries about being late. I am always late in the blogosphere! Glad you liked the look of that egg in the skillet. As for the temperature, it’s now back to 72 degrees this afternoon and very mild. It’s only the nights which can be quite cool. Hope you are doing well as we move toward autumn…

  29. me2013 says:

    I thought that bean was a snake! Then I read the caption 😀

    Beautifully written

  30. Oh this is lovely! I adore open fires and we had our own first fire of the season here the other night, as autumn begins to arrive here in Northern Scotland. Glad to have found you through your switcheroo with Pam! Looking forward to reading more:-)

    • Kathy says:

      I am so glad you stopped by, harula. Do you really live in Northern Scotland? That is so synchronistic. My husband and I just read about a tour going to Scotland from our area next spring. We both sighed and wished we could go. But, alas, not now…

  31. Yes, I really do – about an hour north of Inverness, near a river called the River Finddorn. It’s such a beautiful place. If you both feel the calling I hope you can make it one day – red squirrels, dolphins and deer await you! Blessings, H xxxx

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