August 1, 2026

Life is short, and summer is short, and August is now upon us. Market season is in full swing, with late summer's fruit vendors on the scene. The farmer's wife is kept busy canning, picking green beans in the cool morning air, surrounded by tall trees and wide-open grassy fields. The smooth greenness and clear mountains soothe her spirit. Canning may be hot tiring work, but the thought of opening jars in the wintertime, serving bowls of hearty soup to the family makes it all worthwhile.

The herd of friendly black-and-white cows keeps growing. Their pastures may seem somewhat dry and withered, but they keep grazing with all appearance of contentment and joy. New pastures are always expected, one feels in fact entitled to them. Farmer girl, picking wild blackberries along the cow lane, found herself surrounded and trailed by hopeful cows, whooshing hot breath down her neck. As it soon became obvious she was not going to lead them to greener pastures, they soon moved on, checking all gates hopefully as they passed.