september

Last Saturday we attended the National Symphony Orchestra’s season opening concert at the Kennedy Center. There is something so grand about entering the hall of flags and mingling on the patio that overlooks the Potomac. The program included pieces by Johann Strauss, Jr., Richard Strauss, and Liszt and featured performances by Renee Fleming and Lang Lang. Fleming performed Richard Strauss’ “Four Last Songs.” The lines from “September” seem à propos for this season and a fitting tribute to my abandoned vegetable garden:

The garden is mourning,

the rain sinks coolly on the flowers,

summertime shudders

quietly to a close.

Leaf upon golden leaf is dropping

down from the tall acacia tree.

Summer smiles amazed and exhausted,

on the dying dream that was this garden.

Long by the roses,

it tarries, yearns for rest,

slowly closes its (great)

weary eyes.

(translated from German)

vacation's all i ever wanted

We didn’t have to get away, but we did. After four weekends out-of-town, it’s good to be home on a Saturday–cleaning, picking up veggies, enjoying an end-of-summer kind of day. With or without the academic calendar, September will always be the back-to-school month. The same sense of anticipation; the same urge to start over.

Oregon, Washington, and Vancouver, B.C. were all new places for us. The trip was a whirlwind of driving up mountains and down coasts, exploring city streets block by block … the kind of trip that leaves you mentally refreshed but physically exhausted. Conclusion: the Pacific Northwest is full of dramatic landscapes, walkable cities, and really good food.

Rialto Beach, WA:

that lie about greener grass

I’m re-reading Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, and there a number of worthy excerpts. Paragraphs you just want to skim again, read out loud, chew on.

One segment addresses a common lie I’ve been considering over the past year or two. I know that life is hard and that it often isn’t fair, but I still harbor the very American impulse to believe my life will continually improve in the coming weeks and months. Though the church taught me about “persecution and trials,” I’m not sure I understood that awkward conversations, miscommunication, and stressful projects would be par for the course. Course after course. Cue Peterson:

“We keep expecting things to get better somehow. And when they don’t, we whine like spoiled children who don’t get their way. We accumulate resentment that stores up in anger and erupts in violence. Convinced by the lie that what we are experiencing is unnatural, an exception, we devise ways to escape the influence of what other people do to us by getting away on a vacation as often as we can. When the vacation is over, we get back into the flow of things again, our naïveté renewed that everything is going to work out all right—only to once more be surprised, hurt, bewildered when it doesn’t.”

Okay, so we’re going on vacation (in two days!) for other reasons than to escape annoying people. But Peterson speaks effectively to the greener grass impulse. I need to parse out the difference between discontentedness and genuine hope that God will improve a relationship, provide a financial need, and heal an illness.

tomato update

The tomatoes are starting to peek pink and roll in. I've got my first pickings in a paper bag on the counter.

Here's a shot my brother took while visiting the garden about 10 days ago. It's great to have him in the States for a little while, though he's complained about the heat quite a bit. We all enjoyed grilled squash on a Saturday evening -- talk about fresh!

And here's my CSA display (minus the bananas): vine ripe tomatoes (they're a little ahead of mine, obviously), cherry tomatoes (which my brother devoured), and white nectarines. I love getting fruit as part of my share.

Oh ... and there's basil there, too. I think I'll make a batch of mozzarella this weekend!