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“The long, slow, sweet summer that had filled us with peace was drawing to a close. The breezes might still blow warm, but around the edges of our world was a "last-time" feeling. This special kind of loveliness, these rich offerings of pasture and wood lot could not go on forever. I wanted to tuck it all inside me--the wonder of it and our own deep delight--so it would last through the winter and until the year turned again to spring.” — Elizabeth Yates
The long, slow, sweet summer that had filled us with peace was drawing to a close. The breezes might still blow warm, but around the edges of our world was a "last-time" feeling. This special kind of loveliness, these rich offerings of pasture and wood lot could not go on forever. I wanted to tuck it all inside me--the wonder of it and our own deep delight--so it would last through the winter and until the year turned again to spring.