It appears that against my will I am being carefully and inexorably towed out by the tide of an ebbing summer, back into the dark mornings. The brightness of summer is leaving me. Too soon. Too soon. The sunrise is only at the strength of a whisper as I carry my buckets of warm water out to the barn to start milking.
Look at all this rain we had by light yesterday morning. 
And it is warm, and humid. So the grass is growing. Wonderful rainfall. Now that the weather has settled again, today I shall place the maze under the final honey super and gather the last of the honey tomorrow.
Daisy and Queenie will be quartered in the yards for a few days until the ground is harder again. I don’t want them tramping the growing grass into mud. Suffice to say, Daisy is Not Amused.
Good morning. I hope you are all well and toddling along. It seems our late summer quiet has gone down a stop. Into a pregnant pause. Something is coming.
I dreamt of crossing the ocean from island to island on string bridges. The whole of the sky was strung with shiny wires, bridges attached, people rushing to and fro along their walkways carrying their baggage. Everyone dressed in the travelling style of the late forties. Seagulls perched on the wires watching. It was a beautiful day and we were grateful there was no wind.
We all had personal string bridges that we whipped across to a wire, like you flick a wet dishcloth at legs and it secured, with a hook on contact to the wires of our choice, this was a learned skill, I was good at it, after years of practise. As our bridge settled on we rushed. All hurry – hurry. My swing bridge was old and a few of the wooden slats were broken leaving gaps but it was serviceable for my little group if you were careful.
So waking to the dense quiet of the morning is such a relief. No hurry. Just get all the chores done before the school run. Plenty of time.
Have a lovely day. Watch your step.
celi
On this day a year ago. My grandmother made rabbit stew. If you have time for a short read, this is one of The Stories. I really like this one and once I work on the description of this glorious South Island summer I will like it even better.
The Kitchen's Garden 
70 responses to “The precious light of dawn”
Like you I adore summer. I could have spring and fall, but I dread, dread, dread winter. The long cold dark of the night, the short cold pale light of the days. UGH!
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
http://deltacountyhistoricalsociety.wordpress.com
Fall is on its way in my neck of the woods as well. All too soon! Mornings have become quite chilly in the 40’s. Love the early morning picture of the barn! 🙂
I know that feeling of summer leaving and fall coming. I love it and yet am filled with sadness at saying goodbye. Beautiful post c.
Beautiful. ❤
Your dream was so interesting…..connected and busy, destinations unknown. Your
blog has us connected, most of us busy and yet still interwoven in story..destinations
unknown.
Good morning !! Bathe in the softness of the autumn light and lets all put our
backs to the darkness and look into the light.
very well said nanster! anyway it is way too early to be worrying about the winter, it is a beautiful summer day today! c
What is it about a light in the barn? It triggers something–the change of seasons…a stable for birth, I don’t know. Very moving.
Now that you mention it alice i guess it is almost biblical.. c
*Sigh* An ebbing Summer. I shouldn’t be wistful, I should enjoy every moment of every day, but it has been so lovely. Thanks for sharing your Summer with us, Celi.
Kate it is such a pleasure.. really.. c
Even with the summer heat still in full regalia, the days are noticeably shorter. I really notice it in the evenings, dark too soon for me! 🙂 Love your rain gauge, and hope you can ease into fall without too much shifting of pleasures. That’s what I’m saying to me, too! oxo D
morning debra, the seasons just keep on moving and passing. makes me wonder whether all this planning for summer crops each year is not just to amuse myself> the seasons themselves decide what happens.. c
About a week and a half ago, I did start to notice that it’s no longer bright out when 7:30 P.M. hits in Chicago. It’s by no means dark, but the brightness is fading. I can only imagine what it will be like when my mornings begin that way as well.
morning yummy.. i mustt get up to chicago before the weather turns for some shopping.. best i get a move on.. c
Last night we lit a fire in the Mexican chimera. The evenings are drawing in earlier and earlier. One can smell autumn in the air. We sat before the fire . Overhead flock after flock of Canadian geese “veed” their way east to the bog. Some flew so low we could hear the whisper of wings above the clamor of their honking. Reluctant to leave the crackle and warmth of our fire we sat long into the night, We were saying good-bye to summer. That wire does connect all of us to you Celi. It’s a very strong wire. Virginia
that sounds just brilliant esp the sound of the wings of the geese, you much have a much shorter summer than us too .. i have nothing to complain about really.. c
what a delicious description of the geese, a perfect evening.. c
I was just thinking the same thing, it wasn’t that long ago the birds were waking me up at 4am, now, they are barely around by the time I get up around 6. The darkness in the mornings is depressing and it will only get darker.
But at least it will be spring and summer for my friends down under!
I too have noticed summer exiting stage west especially in the evening here in Manitoba where the fresh smell of fall blows confidently in across the terrace. I shall miss summer but there is something exciting about that new fresh tantalizing smell.
Indeed a lack of light but that also means cosy warm toasty nights to come 🙂
And what a very complex dream my friend!
Cheers
Choc Chip Uru
I too, feel autumn in the air…….
I too have had to get up and get ready in the dark the last week or so. It’s no fun. I just want to stay curled in bed.