The pagan harvest festival of Lughnasadh is August 2nd - 4th. As you can imagine, I have not begun reaping my harvest. I have however, been working my ass off. And I'm having corn on the cob tonight. From my steamer. Ah, modern life!
Also, I was mesmerized by what I believe were corn fields off the 5 on the way back and forth to Blogher. There's something about cornfields that seems so much more agricultural then orange groves or anything that grows on trees. Who knew we grew corn in California? Well, probably everyone but me. Unless I'm wrong and it was something else entirely. Which would be quite embarrassing.
I like the poem below because when I was younger, I always felt like August dragged, but now the summer, like most of my life, seems to rush by, chock full of scheduling and running and fitting it all in.
May you be harvesting something good this month.
August rushes by like desert rainfall,
A flood of frenzied upheaval,
But still catching me unprepared.
Like a matchflame
Bursting on the scene,
Heat and haze of crimson sunsets.
Like a dream
Of moon and dark barely recalled,
Shadows caught in a blink.
Like a quick kiss;
One wishes for more
But it suddenly turns to leave,
Dragging summer away.
- Elizabeth Maua Taylor