Black-eyed Susans add a splash of color as summer morphs into fall.
A dime in my pocket, I headed to Dairy Queen on my blue Schwinn bicycle. It’s a Montana summer day in 1958, maybe 1959, and the thought of the treat I was going to purchase danced in my head: a cherry dipped cone. If you bit the swirled top off, you could suck up the vanilla soft serve; I could just taste it! (DQ calls its cones “soft serve” because technically the recipe does not contain enough milk fat to be deemed ice cream by the FDA – little known fact!).
On a hot day, the melting soft serve dripped out over the top of the cone, so fast licking was essential. Sticky fingers were inevitable, but, oh so worth it. The prized cone in hand, I jumped back on my bike to head home when a few pedals in, the top of the cone fell off onto the gravelly alley behind the Dairy Queen. Jubilation turned to woe in a split second.
I thought of the coveted cone when I recollected sitting around on the day of the solstice in June contemplating the summer ahead, pregnant with excitement for warm weather activities. After all, the last vestige of Mazama snow melted on April 30 – a day before I predicted. (That snow is going to be here until May, I commiserated while watching it pile up all winter.)
Then the heat wave came; not much to do in it except head to the water. Not long after the three-digit temperatures, a thunderstorm brought a refreshing rain and the fateful lightning strikes. Wildfire reigned as king during the heart of summer followed by ashy smoke choking out blue skies. In what seems like the blink of an eye, “Fall is in the air.” is being heard about town. Where did summer go? Next thing you know, it will be Christmas!
During the woeful mid-summer days, a thoughtful gift basket arrived from my stepdaughter on the west side. Everything in the basket was bright yellow, meant to bring sunshine into a now dull and dampened summer. It occurred to me how colors are evocative and transformative. Spreading the bright yellow treasures (blanket, candle, mugs, flowers) about the house did add cheer. Lemon cookies and lemon drops were an added touch. Lemon vodka wasn’t bad either.
Now that the blue skies are back, we aren’t as blue as we were. The scary orange flames torching into the sky are gone. The fire’s mosaic path left a goodly number of green trees, giving us a sense of relief that we were not left with blackened stalks rising out of gray ash. The black-eyed Susans are in full glory. The yellow orb in the sky is beating down with pleasant mid-70 degrees warmth.
It’s time to enjoy Indian summer, every single moment. I might even buy a cherry dipped cone (now just under $3) next time I spot a DQ and toast September’s bluebird days!
