small wrought iron quilt rack

Letting Go
In August, here in the mountains of southwest Virginia, the trees acquire a dull sheen that signals the end of summer. Heralded by the Dog Days of summer, it's a melancholy, bittersweet season. Daytime temperatures may soar, the humidity is sweltering, but nights are cool. In the morning, a fog rises from the mountains, reminiscent of a Japanese painting. And each day is shorter.

Stars on a late summer night are like diamonds in a velvet sky.
Slice open a bell pepper from the garden, a ...
Author: Stephania Munson-Bishop

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