Hawksley Workman’s gorgeously mournful “Autumn’s Here” keeps playing in my head, altho’ I’m so far refusing to actually pull out the CD. Besides the jellyfish washing up on the beach and the blackberries ripening faster than I can pick them, there are signs of summer’s end all around. Rather than fight it, perhaps I should just revel in colours like these. They’re not yet fall colours, but does anything say late summer better than Rudbeckia? I used to resist yellows and oranges in my garden, preferring the cool colours–blues, pinks, mauves–but more and more I’m incorporating strategic hits of heat. 
In the shot above, you can just see the bronzey red of the heuchera. I’m pleased with the way it reflects the hips on the rose plant that you can just barely see in the upper left of the photo, and that you get a close-up view of below.
These hips are the best part of the rosa glauca, well, next to the fabulously glaucous foliage, that is. Actually, I have to admit I’m also partial to the name, the word “glauca,” which I associate with Catherine Belsey’s elucidation of the way language shapes our thinking and the way language is contingent, developed through convention, rather than representing any absolute one-to-one connection between sign and signifier. She offers as a prime example the Welsh “colour glas [which] like the Latin glaucus, includes elements which English would identify as green or grey.” My eyes perform their colourplay at the borders she talks about, so this passage has always stuck with me, and certainly predisposed me to want this rose in my garden. Oh, and then this particular rose has its parent plant just up the road in the garden which used to belong to my friend, Barb, now dreaming up a Saskatoon garden as soon as her Saskatoon construction nightmare is done. (One day, I’m going to do a post about all the contributors to my garden.)
Hasn’t been much knitting talk around here lately, has there! I’ve been knitting, though, and have happily reached the end of the stocking stitch tedium on my Icarus Shawl. Look how much I’ve done now and what a great colour and weight this is for late summer–airy and floral bright but with more than a hint of the warmth I’ll want in autumn.
and if I go a bit closer, you can see the 8 rows of lace, although you won’t be able to discern much of a pattern. That’s going to take some blocking. 
Won’t be long though — I calculate about 10 hours or so (based on about 30 rows of an average 400 stitches each). Enough to get me through the rest of Season 5 and halfway through Season 6 on my Buffy review.
Speaking of reviews, I’ll have to tell you later about Anna Gavalda’s novel which I am so, so enjoying. Right now, though, I’d better get ready for my guests: daughter number 3 arrives today to show off our island to her new fellow (then she’s planning to hang out here for a week or so ’til she starts her new job — time for some house rules!)
Remember to check back tomorrow to see what shoes I’ll feature for My Shoes Wednesday!
