Hanging On To Summer

How do they survive?  The flowers that come back, the bugs that continue to hop and chirp about the yard.  Some things die with the very first frost, but others hang on, well past their time. 

Most of my plant beds, containers, and garden have been crispy brown and sad for a few weeks now, but as I walked around the yard tonight, watching the welcome purple clouds roll in carrying a much needed quenching rain, I found bits and pieces of summer still left over.  I picked the last of the miniature pumpkins and corraled the squashes back into the dirt so I can mow and tidy up one more time around the garden. 

I found one silly little cucumber hanging out amongst his yellow and sickly companions, they who had been hiding under once green leaves I failed to peek under.  I think one more batch of Ina Garten's Roasted Shrimp and Orzo is on the menu for this weekend.  Perhaps with a loaf of homemade bread, fresh from the oven and slathered in a bit of butter.

I found a small gaggle of stunning purple wildflowers that had decided to give one more show, and just a few black eyed susans interspersed with the weeds that have popped up here and there amidst my lack of desire for any more yardwork this year. 

My dianthus is reblooming for the third time, and I've found that although it is classified as an annual, it keeps on coming back every year.  I like that.

And wouldn't you know, this little green fellow was hanging on for dear life.  He almost seemed to be asking me, with a tilt to his head, "Excuse me Miss, but why does it have to end"?

Sorry, Mr. Grasshopper.  Summer has to end some time.  It will be back again with fresh green grass and warm breezes soon enough.  Now jump away and find a warm place to hide.  I smell snow coming.