And my poppies, oft ignored, managed a wonderful display this year. At one time 17 of my salmon colored poppies were blooming at once. No mean feat because heavy rains can destroy the delicate flowers. Yesterday I took a picture of the last boom for the archives.
Some time in August, toward the middle, the breeze will change direction and the air take on a hint of crispness. Fall will have arrived. A killing frost usually waits until September, hopefully toward the end, but migration will begin during that Indian Summer in between.