Summer is closing out and the action surrounding The Urban Porch has very much slowed down. There is a tinge of color on the edges of some leaves. A slight shift in the quality of the light. Cooler nights, great for sleeping with the window open.

The Hostas have completed their blossoming, the leaves dying back to wilted, brown rags. I began mowing them down in small segments, a little each week. My mower is small and will keep stalling out if I try to do it all at once. After flushing out a small rabbit from beneath them (it scampered away to safety), I first make sure there are no creatures lurking beneath.

The black bears have been pretty active and seem to be everywhere lately. So many adolescent bears sightings happening around here – leaving their mother, starting to learn about the world on their own and trying to fatten up before it’s time to hibernate. Pretty much every day one is crossing the road, sauntering across a yard, or getting into someone’s garbage. While I was watching my granddaughter last weekend, my daughter texted me to say “Don’t let the dogs out, there’s a bear in the backyard.” It’s not a very clear photo off the back of the house camera, but you get the idea. It was still a good size, and no, I didn’t let the dogs out.

Speaking of dogs, there are three of them, including mine, and one that was just newly adopted (my new grand-dog). A quick diversion here to share about the acquisition of this one. I volunteered to drive out of state to pick up this little guy who was being delivered (along with so many others) off a transport. He was one of sixty-five small dogs coming from a hoarding situation in Kentucky. I don’t understand what is wrong with people that this kind of thing occurs and allowed to get to that kind of critical situation. Luckily, new homes were found for all of them.

I was expecting something like a box truck to be delivering these dogs, so you can imagine my surprise when a huge tractor trailer pulled into the parking lot. Inside, the cages were stacked three high and ran the entire length of the trailer. While they were stressed from their long travel, the dogs that came off at our stop appeared to be in good condition, and the driver transporting them was kind. This was one of multiple drop off points through multiple states.

Here he is when he first came off the truck and into my arms. He was trembling and so small.

And smelly. He needed a bath. He was good about it.

Afterward he immediately snuggled up close to me and fell into an exhausted sleep, as did I. When I woke up, the dog was tucked up against my collarbone, right under my chin. Sweetness overload!

The next day he went on to my daughter’s family and his forever home. He’s a great little pup and fit right in almost immediately. Lucky boy! ♥

So back to the bear; I was not going to take any of them out while a bear might be on the other side of the porch. There is always a lot of animal action in that yard. Fox often, racoon families, skunks and Barred Owls in the trees. This one was in front of the house. What a beauty!

Circling back now to The Urban Porch – as summer wanes, Zinnias and sunflowers are providing most of the showy hues, although the leaves on many of the Zinnias have developed a powdery mildew. It didn’t happen to the Zinnias growing next door at the neighbor’s place, so I don’t know what that is about.

Milkweed saw an abundant, successful summer – the seeds tossed around last fall apparently took. Monarch butterflies did eventually find them.

Once they emerged, they danced among the Zinnias.

The Milkweed pods are drying out and beginning to burst open, getting ready to send the next generation of seeds out on silky parachutes. I am gathering them to share with anyone who wants to encourage the Monarchs next year.

Masses of orange coneflowers throughout the neighborhood have contributed to some eye-popping admiration.

Speaking of “the neighborhood”, the Fence Dinosaur down the street (for those who follow updates on our local stuffed ‘saurus fashionista) was decked out in shades and a sombrero for August.

Inexplicably, a number of disappointments have occurred during this summer’s growing cycle. For the second year in a row, my fig tree did not produce any figs. I surmise it might be due to having been cut back the year before last, and even a tiny bit of a trim last year? Plenty of healthy leaves, not one fig.

Also the Hibiscus that had bloomed a few times inside the house over winter did not produce any flowers at all when out on the porch all summer. That’s a first. But weirdest has been the Heavenly Blue Morning Glory Fail. Tendrils snaked and vine-wrapped up and around the railings of The Urban Porch, in addition to climbing the lamp pole in the front yard. The soil in the porch pots was not even the same soil as in the yard, yet despite the differences, there was not even one blossom on any of them! I have no answers for that.

Elsewhere, scarlet seeds of summer’s end adorn the Dogwood tree in the front,

while English Yew is putting forth their cool-looking berries. If you have ever seen what an MRI image of an eyeball looks like, it’s kind of like these berries. Eyeball berries….

While these bits of late summer hues and pigments make an appearance, The Dulling of the trees has begun. The Dulling – that in-between time when the vibrancy of summer greens ceases any further action in the chlorophyll department and takes on a flat, appearance – the early commencement of dying, a dull pause until the vividness of autumnal glow truly begins.

A number of people I have spoken to lately have expressed their own pauses, lack of inertia, a suspended animation, a slowing down – in effect an emotional dullng running parallel to the seasonal changes. Everything is connected.

The Crow Tree across the road is experiencing a few radical changes. The two jutting pinnacles which have provided perches for crows, ravens and hawks appears to have finally broken off. I still can’t believe this tree has not fallen. The view from my chair on the porch indicates that The Dulling there has begun, with a hint of September gold beginning around the edges.

One by one the plants on The Urban Porch are experiencing their own version of The Dulling. The ones that will not be coming back inside are fading out and will be tossed. Tomatoes are finished and all eaten. Basil has been picked, the pesto has been made.

There was not as much basil planted and frozen this year, meaning less to revive August’s verdancy during winter’s dark. On the subject of food, The Dutch Baby of the weekend contained the late fruits and berries of the season – peaches, blackberries and raspberries.

I’ve still been making a few more watermelon/feta/mint salads, but the mint has flowered and bolted, leaving not much left to gather. It’s time to think about squashes and roasted vegetables for dinner in the coming days. Well, maybe not yet, but soon.

And then there are the night insects, the crickets and katydids; an ongoing chorus of jingling bells, interspersed with some chirping and what sounds like someone running their thumb along the teeth of a comb, over and over again. Last week there was an insistent, raspy man-voice rising above all the others calling “knee-deep, knee-deep.” This went on for days, but tonight Knee Deep is silent, perhaps having left the scene. By some time in October they will all be gone.

While The Dulling is occurring, in contrast there have been some stunning sunsets, vibrating blue skies and spectacular cloud formations, along with rumors of possible aurora borealis sightings in the near future.

I’m looking forward to a foliage riot.

~*~