Harvest Moon

August 23, 2010 - 10:45pm -- swingbug

It’s high August. Full moon over the corn fields. Tomato trucks bouncing down the highway on my left and right, on my way home from ballet class. It’s twilight at 8 p.m. and 85º. Pulling on to my little circle of a street, everybody’s outside. Folks are watering the plants out front and kids are zooming around on their bikes. Down the way, there’s music pouring out of a parked car and neatly paired up teens are practicing a dance in the street for what can only be a quinceañera.

At the office, everyday there’s a cardboard box in the break room full of free squash, or peaches, or tomatoes and tomatoes and tomatoes.

Our garden is turning out peppers. Peppers that are hotter than the weather. They find their way into everything. Scrambled eggs with chorizo, nopales, and cheddar cheese on a Sunday morning.

August also brings the county fair. We went down and ate our obligatory corn dogs like good Woodlanders. We always bump into folks that we know at the fair. And their handy-crafts. I did alright this year. My midsummer socks took third place as a knitted wearable accessory, and my crocheted corset and fairy wing set scored a first place. Shawn brought home a fist-full of red ribbons for his photography. Our prize winnings don’t quite cover the cost of a celebratory sushi lunch, but we’re going anyway. Luke sat in a snort and rode a carousel. We saw cows and pigs and chickens and zucchini bigger than your head. Standard fair.

Someone who spends as much time as I do with her fingers plunged into wool should complain about the heat, but I confess I love it. It gets a little inconvenient when bedtime rolls around, I’ll grant you, but in the early evening like this it’s delicious. Even the hottest part of the day finds me outside perched on my stone lunch table soaking up the sun. I was a lizard in a past life.

Summer brings a lot of folks back to the dance studio that have been far and away. You don’t get too much opportunity to chat over the course of a class, but watching longtime friends dance again is like having a conversation. You watched the familiar rhythms of the way they raise an arm or take a turn and realize how much you’ve missed them in the time that’s passed.

I don’t know how many more good hot spells we’ll get like this. It’s probably too early to say this, but it feels like the end of summer isn’t too far off somehow. It’ll be pumpkins instead of tomatoes and corn before you know it. Halloween and raking leaves.

I opened a drawer the other day and found my Penny gloves. I surprised myself wishing for weather cold enough to wear them.

It’ll happen. Sure as sunshine. But for now I’m going to enjoy that harvest moon over the corn fields.

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