The final hours of July passed wet and cool, brooding and overcast. And welcomed. I applauded the dimming of the light; I turned inward and pondered the prescience of autumn. My heart has always belonged to autumn.
August is generally one of my least favourite months. The birds have ceased their joyful singing. The jubilance of summer is fading alongside the colours in hedgerows and the farmers’ fields. The enthusiasm wanes for nurturing the garden into growth and the desire builds to cut back, to tidy up, to restore order. August has become a month of impatience, of waiting for things to change. In August, the year feels tired and old.
But there is always renewal; there is always change. From one year to the next, one month to the next, one day to the next: there is always change. And this year I find my attitude towards August is changing.
I begin to see August as a time for rest: as a time for gathering in. As the farmer begins to gather in the harvest, I prepare to gather in my spirit. I call it back from open vistas and wide-roaming places: from fields and forests, skies and seas, moorland and motorways.
Soon the focus will once again be upon hearth and home. As the year transitions from summer to autumn so shall I, but this year with awareness and appreciation displacing impatience. I cease to regard August as a tiresome month in which the countryside and I are often worn and weary and the weather rarely lives up to expectations. I find myself considering August through a different lens. Late summer becomes another point at which the year turns but it is a quiet turning, hitherto unremarked in my personal canon of thoughts and observations by which I have traditionally marked time’s passing.
The opening of the calendar year is a time of hopes and beginnings and reckonings; Janus reminds us to look forward, to look back. The vernal equinox is a bursting forth of new life; a fanfare as light overtakes darkness. The summer solstice sees life and light at their fullest; nature is rioting.
A celebration of summer from Van Gogh
The autumnal equinox falls this year exactly on my birthday but the conjunction of the two has always elevated its personal significance as another opportunity to reflect, take stock, gather in what has been learned and experienced; send forth personal seeds and shoots of hope and quiet dreams; hunker down in readiness for winter. And the winter solstice has long been a prelude to Christmas; a celebration of home, hearth and what we have come to call hygge; a time for family and thankfulness.
I add to these long-established markers on my private calendar. I add this morning’s musings on this first day of August. Thoughts, facts, festivals, traditions, the personal and the universal crowd together and coalesce and I make sense of the clamour.
August 1st is Lammas Day or Lammastide: the halfway point between the summer solstice and the autumnal equinox. In the traditional Celtic calendar it is the first day of autumn; the first of the harvest celebrations. It marks the gathering in of the wheat. August… Autumn… Au… It is the symbol for gold from the Latin ‘aurum’ which means ‘shining dawn’. A golden gathering, a shining beginning. August reframed.
This morning August has opened with a return of the sunshine. It was a shining dawn. The fine weather is predicted to last a few days more, before the rain returns in time for an extended family visit. Perhaps it will become an early autumnal visit – hunkering down with board games and venturing out for rainy walks to the sea, rather than the visit we were hoping for, marked by summer days and picnics on the beach, evening BBQs and stargazing. No matter. Everything changes – including expectations and weather forecasts.
A Corner of Cornwall 
Historically, August has been a month of introspection for me. Since having my daughter in August, it has become a month of celebration and preparation and schedule changes as school begins and activities ramp back up; there isn’t much time or energy left for introspection. But I have begun to see it as a portion of autumn — not of cool temperatures and russet leaves, not here, but of golden light and ripening. A pre-autumn. I like August more now. And I relate to this post, even as I covet your weather. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s lovely to hear from you, Nicole, and before I’d seen your comment I checked out your blog, realising I’d not seen you in my feed. Somewhere along the way I managed to get unsubscribed. Sorted now. As for August, like you it’s a month which has had various guises over the years. When my children were young and when I was teaching myself it was a month of freedom! I don’t think I’ve ever seen it as a month of introspection before now though, and I’m liking it. It feels right. Good luck with the school prep! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have to say that autumn is probably my favourite season too. Each of the seasons has their pros, but there is something about autumn, whether it’s the beautiful colours, or the fact that it’s the build up to Christmas, I don’t know, but it is most definitely the season I actually look forward too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yup! I’m looking forward to it already! But I hope for a little more of summer first, especially after this weekend of rain and winds.
LikeLike
What a lovely post Sandra. August is not my favourite month either, but I am hoping it will be a time for me to relax in the garden, plan for next year and help my son regain his health. I love the thought of it as a golden month.
LikeLiked by 2 people
When the sun shines (as it is now) it is a gorgeously golden month! I do hope you get your relaxing month, Jude, we all need some downtime especially after recent weeks with your son’s health. Hopefully he will be properly on the mend very soon x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lammastide indeed! August 1st is Yorkshire Day! Though much of Yorkshire has little enough to celebrate at the moment with these dreadful floods, which luckily have not touched us. Provided I can avoid the crowds, I’ve always loved August: heat; lazy days in the sun, and spent as much as possible outdoors; a time when (unfortunately not this year though) news becomes less stressy, more silly season, and there’s time to catch up with friends and family. September’s lovely too, and early October. But I want to crawl under a stone between November and February! Thank goodness we’re all different. What a lovely post though. Nice choice of illustrations.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes, I had Yorkshire in mind as I was writing, Margaret; very conscious of the state of things up there. I’m glad you’re ok (as is my son) but ghastly for many. I’m on a steep learning curve re Yorkshire – I had no idea such a thing as Yorkshire Day existed!
LikeLike
August starts with a visit from Team H, babysitting while Mum and Dad got to a wedding. Later in the month up to Ironbridge to see Team AK. We have been before, but not seen their latest home, apparently very rural. It was end of August last time we visited and the weather turned so cold we had to go into Telford shopping to get warm clothes! End of August is Bournemouth Air Festival… I think you are right, I’ve always liked September when things are quieter, but still plenty of flowers in the garden.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You have a busy month ahead, Janet! And I’m with you – I love September when the busyness settles and the crowds leave 🙂
LikeLike
What a lovely post and gorgeous illustrations – made me pause to reflect as I went through. Always a good thing to slow down a little and ponder. So thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Margaret, I’m glad that you enjoyed it 🙂 (A happy coincidence that I discovered your message in the spam folder this morning. I almost never look in it. I shall do so more often from now on.)
LikeLike
Gorgeous post, Sandra. I used to think of August as dusty and endless, albeit full of vague possibility in a ‘Cider With Rosie’ kind of way. These days I associate it with vibrant fun and frolicks, containing as it does the peak of Edinburgh’s annual festivals. But one thing I think will never change is that growing sense of autumn on the air, and the arrival of a back to school feeling as the month progresses!
LikeLiked by 1 person
‘Dusty and endless’ is a perfect description of August when I was still a child at school, Liz 🙂 I love that! And of course – August is a standout month in Edinburgh. I was conscious when writing this post that August will be experienced very differently in the southern hemisphere but I didn’t consider how much variation there could be within the British Isles. Hope you’re enjoying buzz of the festival 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Sandra! It’s going to be a fun few weeks. 😀 and then we’re going to Orkney in September for a fortnight – it will be a lovely quiet contrast!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely! Enjoy! I do hope you will be tempted to post a little about your contrasting experiences, Liz. I miss your posts! 🙂 x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much Sandra – that’s so lovely to hear and spurs me on to get back to my own posts! x
LikeLiked by 1 person
A beautifully written contemplation on August Sandra. I have also enjoyed the paintings you have chosen. It’s birthday month for three of us in my family and I now celebrate it in Winter but have many happy memories of Summer. Here we are starting to see signs of Spring – Jonquils and Daffodils starting to flower, some Camelia blooms bringing bright colour and also Hellebores. I have even seen one tree covered in bright pink blossom. Very welcome indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ann, I was thinking of those in the southern hemisphere as I was writing: August being a very different experience. And you have experienced both! I hope you enjoy all those birthday celebrations!
LikeLike
Here is wishing you Many Many Happy Returns of the Autumnal Equinox! The recliner in Bouguereau’s painting reminds me of Pippa Passes, except this one rests against the harvest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Uma, a little while to go before I reach that milestone but I shall carry your good wishes with me 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautifully descriptive and philosophical writing with apt, glowing, illustrations
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re very kind, Derrick 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Food for thought there, indeed, Sandra. I love the ” Au” connection- of course!- why haven’t I seen that before? It is a golden month, the first of Autumn in my book, and your lovely selection of paintings shows that. I associate Van Gogh with gold. It’s also an indolent month- when I look at the garden and decide to let it be- blowsy and bee -drenched and alive with butterflies.
Beautiful post. xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was partly our earlier exchange about August and least favourite months that set me on this train of thought, Pat. As for ‘au’ – I didn’t see it until I’d rambled along for a while, despite having already started looking for artworks which depicted the gold of August. It was certainly an ‘a-ha’ moment! Blowsy and bee-drenched… such a perfect description. (I shall almost certainly steal it! But I promise to credit you!) xx
LikeLike
It’s July I can’t stand, so I am always delighted when August comes around. I loved your meditations here and enjoyed reading you reassessing your relationship to August. Produce is so abundant here in August–especially peaches. Lots of local corn too. Good eating in August in New England.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Corn and peaches… such lucious images for August, Elizabeth. Bernie is growing corn here for the first time and we are enjoying watching the progress. The burgeoning ears have their silky tassels but it will be a while yet before they are ready. Sadly I can’t see us ever succeeding with peaches!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Peaches really thrive here. I think the solid heat of July and August allow that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I so enjoy your meditations on your surroundings, Sandra, because they are so different from mine. As for this one, I live near the beach in Southern California and at the moment we are far from slowing down and gathering in. We have so much summer left! The seasons are subtle here, but I am definitely a winter sort of gal with shorter light and longer nights being my comfort. Happy Lammas 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Laurie, what an iconic place to live; California equates to permanent summer for me 😉 The typically romantic notion of many of course!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! My town is known for its waves and has been dubbed, Surf City USA….another kind of iconic. Although that is not for me, I find early mornings and cold dreary winters make the ocean beautiful. And perfectly romantic!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I can relate to that, Laurie. I love the sea’s moods – the greys as much as the blues 🙂
LikeLike
I had an ‘A-ha’ moment when I saw your pairings of paintings with August. I think February in Victoria is most like your August, the days are shorter but the heat is intense and your description of summer being ‘tired and old’ fits.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I did think about you southern hemisphere folks, Rose, and you’ve helped me to relate more to the inverted seasons. February is when winter feels tired and old to me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Winter is feeling old and tired to me now! However, I’ve seen daffodils out and some trees are starting to bud, so it won’t be long until they are flowering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Rose, no matter how hard I try I cannot think of daffodils in Australia! Quite ridiculous I know! 🤦♀️ But I do know how cheery they are after the drudge of winter. Enjoy! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Daffodils certainly aren’t native to Australia! But they are pretty and they poke their cheerful heads up at exactly the right moment to make everything about winter better!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I could read your writing all day! You express so well the way I feel about August and autumn but haven’t been able to articulate well. And the time you took choosing artwork, as well as words, was well-spent–they add a great deal to the feel of this piece!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerry 🙂 I’m glad you liked the artwork in particular because it took me ages to find the right pieces. And all the while a little voice in my head was telling me how much time I was wasting… Sometimes it has to be heart ruling head 🙂
LikeLike
I love this post, Sandra! As it happens I have just been writing the next post for my blog, where I muse about – believe it or not – the transition from summer to autumn. It happens to be my favourite time of year. Part of it is due to the colours, which you capture magnificently. As you may remember I am a big admirer of Van Gogh, so I am happy to see some of his pictures here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll look forward to your post, Stargazer 🙂 To make that selection from Van Gogh, I looked through everyone of his paintings. Such a treat – and I love that combination in this post. I’d like to have it on my wall just as it appears here!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A treat indeed to look through all the paintings- what a difficult choice to make. I had hoped to visit the VG exhibition at the Tate this summer, but we’ve left it too late- August is definitely not the month for a London visit! For van Gogh admirers I can recommend Susan Fletcher’s novel ” Let me tell you about a man I know”- good author, great subject. xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m still hoping to read that one before the month is out, Pat. Fingers crossed! xx
LikeLike
My heart belongs to autumn too Sandra and I’m often impatient for August to end – it’s a strange month because kids are enjoying their summer holidays but I always feel summer should be over by now, and though it’s still warm, the nights are definitely drawing in. But Lammas is one of my favourite festivals – I do see it as the first autumn festival as it’s about harvest and transformation – I see it as the start of a ‘golden’ time of year. I love the way you describe the gathering in of your spirit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Andrea, I was thinking of you as I was musing – knowing your interest in such things and your affinity with Lammas which is a festival that has passed me by until now. And I agree about the nights drawing already and indeed, later mornings. I was wide awake at 5.45 this morning (yes, I know…) and we were still in the grey dawn. Admittedly it was overcast but the quality of light was different. I found it comforting and familiar 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful writing, Sandra. Autumn has always been my favorite season.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lavinia. Autumn has a special pull for so many of us 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the way you articulate what August means to you and I know what you mean – it’s hard not to get the impression of waiting for seasonal change, and one that often triggers slightly apprehensive feelings as darkness begins to return and summer bloom begins to wane. For this reason though, Autumn is possibly the most poetic season.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, that’s a lovely way of thinking about autumn. I think you’re right – it is the most poetic of the four 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a beautifully golden post from the words to the pictures. I love the Au of August – never thought of that before. I used to love August when it was a month of holiday, mostly spent in Cornwall with my parents who put up with all six of us for weeks on end! Now we are living back home, our ‘children’ visit with theirs, as we used to when they were growing.
I love the Autumn as the nights draw in but I don’t want them doing that too soon and this year it is feeling Autumny already and the family haven’t arrived yet for their ‘Summer’ holidays! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Two of my children are arriving with their families later this week. Sadly the weather forecast doesn’t bode well. The golden August days we hoped for are unlikely to appear for us. Hope you have better luck!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think I am only round the corner from you so we, too, will be without the golden days when the family are here for their holidays. 😦
LikeLike
The joys of Cornish weather!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t love August as much as spring or early summer, but the first few wild blackberries are ripe, our potted blueberries are ripe, and a quieter set of wildflowers have taken over. It has its compensations.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It certainly does. Our local blackberries were still quite a way off ripeness when I last looked; I must check again. When the rain stops!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s only a very few–probably where it’s sunniest, although maybe it has to do with varying species. I can’t explain it, but I can take advantage of it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Get in there before the birds beat you to it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely!
LikeLiked by 1 person
August… Autumn… Au… Love these virtual links.
August was a long respite after a year’s teaching for me: it took a week or ten days to wind down at the end of the summer term, and a similar amount to ratchet up to the new autumn term. Just before that ratcheting up was my birthday and that was therefore both an end and a beginning…
LikeLiked by 1 person
When I was teaching, the first day of the summer holidays was the absolute best feeling. That sense of August stretching ahead 🙂 Now, I can tap in to that feeling every day! 😁
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really all the paintings you have chosen for this post. The last one is quite poignant and says a lot about gathering in. I can relate to what you say about August in the northern hemisphere. Here of course it is very different – and not just because we have spring when you have autumn. We have had a frighteningly hot winter although heading for a few cooler days and nights. now, mercifully. For the first time ever I am rather dreading summer (I used to love summer the most) and any extremes it might bring. I am rather battling with the un-ignore-able enormities of climate change and trying to keep a bit of a grip. Imagining your autumn might help me feel more balanced. Thank you for this lovely post.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is hard to ignore the extremes of weather that are arising with increasing frequency. I can understand your concern, Carol. I’m glad if this post helped just a little bit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“A golden gathering, a shining beginning.” What a beautiful post—your words, the art! ❤️ Happy to have discovered your blog!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you Crystal. And you’ve led me to discovering yours! 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
And thank you for the follow!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I almost missed this post, not sure how that happened. I love your selection of pictures, and I know what you mean about August, it can be so overpoweringly bright. Ah, but the nights, when the sky is clear, are beautiful. I’ve many lovely memories of lying on cool grass watching for shooting stars. I’m glad you’ve found a new way to view this end of the year, and hope you’re enjoying the shift in the weather. It’s roasting here, presumably you are too.
LikeLiked by 2 people
We have ideal weather here right now, Cath. Warm but not overpoweringly so with blue skies and fluffy clouds and warm breezes. Perfect! I so agree about the night skies. We had high hopes for the perseid metoer shower mid-August, when all the family were staying. But of course it fell into the extended period of rain and cloud so not a shooting star to be seen. But there’s still a possibility of being lucky now, perhaps even this evening!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Things are heading towards overpowering here – it can’t last, though… We also missed the perseid shower, but I like to keep a watch for the stray ones.
LikeLiked by 2 people