Summer's lease hath all too short a date

It is the end of August already, and next week my white jeans will have to be retired until after April 24, 2011 (I'm from the South, where we follow the no-wearing-white rule from Labor Day until Easter). This weekend has been like a microcosm of summer, distilled into 48 hours. When my husband picked me up at work on Friday afternoon, we stopped at the edge of my boss' rural property to pick blackberries, gathering 4 pints in about 10 minutes, while birds screeched in rage. A portion of this bounty will go into a blackberry cobbler later this afternoon, while the rest will accompany yogurt and granola in this week's breakfasts. 

Then it was off to cocktails on the roof of a local hotel, with a wonderful view. Leaves are beginning to change on a few trees. Can it really be that time already? Of course, summer did not begin in the Valley until its appointed time--up until the Solstice on June 21, it was cool and rainy and I though I would never get to wear any summer clothes. It's mostly been a cool summer, with highs in the 80s, which has been great for people but less perfect for fruits and vegetables. Everything is coming in about a month late. 

Rooftop view

Marvelous grilled tuna loin was paired with squash, potatoes, and peashoots from our CSA for dinner:

Saturday was spectacularly lovely, and highlighted by several long walks. With clear skies, temperatures in the 70s, and a cool breeze, it was far too delightful to spend a second indoors.  And I'm glad I didn't, because after a sunny morning that allowed for some garden maintenance, it's now cloudy and cool, and I'm inside with a pot of hot tea. A foretaste of the coming fall and winter. But for now, it is still (officially) summer, and there is fresh produce to savor and flowers to enjoy.  Below, graceful Japanese anemones, my favorite of the late summer/autumn blooms.