August feels like kind of an 11th hour to me. The last month of summer. The last month to get up to the mountains before next year. The last month to try to make any sense to the flower beds before September. The last month to get my cottage painted if I'm going to this year.
It's the last month to savor long summer evenings, to smell the summer rainstorms, to sit out in the yard and just listen to the bees buzzing and watch the butterflies.
Next month it's different. Savor August. Diane