{All images above are from Flickr. To learn more about a specific image, please click on its title to be taken to its respective Flickr page.}
Has the first nip of autumn graced your town yet or are you still in the last energetic throws of summer? We land in the latter camp, but it won't be long now until the two seasons collide, their palettes mingling, their temperates fluctuating, their respective garden offerings changing hands in a silent waltz that has gone on for countless centuries.
The brief, gorgeous, enticing period that hangs between summer and autumn is rarely more than a two or three weeks long, but what a special, exciting time of the year it is! Warm, but not blazingly so, crisp, but not icy. It smells of lingering sunscreen and the first plumes of chimney smoke alike. School returns to session, swimsuits and wool coats pass each other like ship's in the night, one coming into rotation, as the other is loving packed away until late next summer (or a much needed winter vacation). There are peaches and pumpkins, summertime pinks and rusty fall golds, bare legs one day, knit tight clad gams the next.
There is a vitality that feels nearly palpable to the finale days of summer, as sunflowers sway in the breeze, backpack clad youngsters scampering down the sidewalk in the crisp morning light, and one's natural instinct to rouse the oven from hibernation returns as suddenly as the ability to comfortably wear open toed shoes disappears.
Today's edition of Flickr Favourites captures some of the hues and imagery itself of this fleeting window, this changing of the season guards, this new year of sorts, nearly four months before the ball officially drops.
While I do wish summer would stick around for another decade or so, I'll admit to feeling a touch giddy already about autumn's return and each merry, magical, marvelous day that it promises. Today however, with the thermostat still closer to July than January, I'll stay squarely parked in summer's camp a little longer. It's warm and sunny, tranquil and invigorating at the same time here, plus, it lets me wear my beloved vintage sundresses a little longer.
Soon though, as quickly as a spider spins a web during the night, fall will be here and I will, I assure you, be singing its praises from the amber leaf strew rooftop - seasonal blog posts aplenty squarely in tow.