Friday, August 28, 2009



We were on the road again early this morning. The slight morning haze and the dry hillsides bespoke of fall and coming glories. I watched for signs of yellow rabbit brush, which at one time would have made my heart leap and my clippers click, as I gathered it to make a natural dye for wool. The blanket that sits on the chest at the bottom of the bed is handwoven with mellowed shades of rabbit brush from various mordants, - tin, iron, alum, copper and chrome. I caught just a small clump of yellow rabbit brush with the camera as the car went whizzing along.



We passed the waters of Yellow Lake, and those of the Skaha, glittering in the sunlight.





The campgrounds along the lake were full to overflowing. We passed people leaving them, heading for the last warm, lazy days at the beach. Along the highway serious contenders for the Ironman race which is to be held on Sunday were wheeling along the side of the road, familiarizing themselves with the long miles they will cycle on race day.



While Charles visited the optometrist I moved the car into the shade and had a lovely hour to sit and read Agatha Christie's "Come, Tell me How You Live". I can't remember who it was in Blogland who recommended this book but I am finding it wonderfully entertaining.

On the way home we climbed the hill out of Penticton and far off in the distance were five shades of hazy blue mountains, but I think I only caught three or four of them.



Definitely signs that Summer is slipping away, and this evening I went out into the garden and took pictures of the tangled wild Clematis and the apple trees, growing heavy and fragrant with the smell of ripe fruit.





There is a magic in September that awakens all kinds of energy and enthusiasm, and I can hardly wait....

3 comments:

Dimple said...

I would like to see that hand dyed piece; I bet it is beautiful. Summer is on the wane here, too. It's fair time, the apples are ripening, and the deer and turkeys are gorging themselves on the windfalls.

Barb said...

Hello Hildred,
I, too, think you should photograph the blanket. Those muted mountains are beautiful. I can't believe your clematis vine! How old is it? I tried to start one at the Denver house last year - not doing too well... I think you'll soon be making applesauce!

Hildred and Charles said...

Barb, - this is a wild clematis that grows on the fence at the back of the property. Who knows how old it is - ancient I guess. I did have a Sweet Fall clematis in my 'lost' garden that the new owners of our old house tore up (nice people, no garden soul). The domestic clematis grew just as vigorously - it was lovely with a beautiful scent and very dainty flowers. I will look for a picture of it.