Summer's End

The smell of clean laundry air-drying in the window. A kitten is bathing herself with a pink sandpaper tongue in a patch of warm sun. An extra-strong cup of hot black tea in an oversized Tea Forte cup is steaming on the desk. White cup, white desk, white shirts drying in the windows. It’s marvelously still out. Quiet. Calm.

Wind chimes tinkle slightly, somewhere far away, swayed by a pleasant breeze. A solitary bird chirps once. In the garden below the window, the boysenberries are done. Cinderella pumpkins are nearly the same hue of pale peach as the double bloom hollyhock. A hue called “champagne.” One takes the low road, vining through the yard, the other takes the high, growing tall and graceful at the corners of the planter.

Summer’s end is warm and beautiful, trimmed with crisp air in the mornings. Bitter tea leaves remain at the bottom of the cup. Nothing to read there. Except that a new tea infuser is needed. A jet passes overhead, adding a little pzazz to the aural experience. Gauzy white curtains sway. Three or four yards away, a group of birds begin an echoing conversation. One kitten turns into four, exploring the edges of the curtains, tumbling through the patch of sunlight, pouncing on sheets of translucent white tracing paper.

---

Please “heart” this post if you liked it so that more people can discover Jellied Gold on Substack. I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Oh yeah, and, if you haven’t already…