tempus fugit

By ceridwen

Living calendar

Worldwide, there can't be many people who don't have a means of knowing the exact date at any time, mostly via a mobile phone.
Regardless, the sight of a blackberry taken over by mildew can only  indicate late summer tipping over into - what  exactly? It's still only August so hardly autumn yet. But there's a change going on, hastened by the recent heat. 

The title of a 2015 novel by Irish writer Sarah Baume* subtly riffed on the seasons thus: Spill Simmer Falter Wither, and this came to me as I walked along the field edges. Yes, the year's faltering after the simmering temperatures. It's not really "Fall" - the leaves are still on the trees - but there's the sense of an ending (to borrow another novelist's title) as if all the plants have shot their juices and are now running down their reserves. 
Time for moulds and mushrooms to reap the bounty of sweetness and sap.

* See Freespiral's blip about her here.

Extra: the first wood ears of the season.

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