I step outside just as the sun is going down and check on my garden. The sunset paints the world more beautifully than I ever can. There is paint under my fingernails and bike grease on my right leg and I feel good in my tired body. I listen to the trains and smell the smells that are summer. The geraniums and the tomatoes and the lavender are memories, memories that I feel but don't think. They are memories of summers always.
The air cools down and so do I. Returning to the house, I look in from the outside. I sit for a moment and watch. This is my favorite moment in my favorite season and I feel it.