Now comes the time of rich purple in the fields and meadows, denoting not only a time but also a maturity. It is as though the whole Summer had been building toward this deep, strong color to match the gold of late sunlight and early goldenrod. – Hal Borland

The Sun

Aug. 22 is Late Summer’s Cross Quarter Day, the day on which the Sun reaches halfway to autumn equinox. Almost an hour has been lost from the day’s length just since the end of July, almost two hours since the year’s longest days in late June.

Having dropped below the celestial equator in the first week of Late Summer, the Sun now leaves the stability of Leo and enters the more volatile sign of Virgo, the first of the most violent periods of change in the second half of the year.

The Weather in the Week Ahead

The weather in the third week of August is somewhat stable, bringing highs in the 90s on 15 to 20 percent of the afternoons, milder 80s 55 percent of the time, and cool 70s the remaining 25 percent. The 19th of the month, however, breaks from the pattern many years, and it has the highest frequency of 90s (35 percent chance) of any other day in the week. Chances of rain increase from 25 percent at the beginning of the period to 30 percent by Aug. 21, then drop abruptly to just 15 percent on the 22nd.

Natural Calendar

Throughout the remainder of the month, high Late Summer still holds sway. Cicadas and katydids and crickets are still boisterous in the night. Fold-wing skippers still chase each other in the morning sun. Great colonies of ants migrate. Beds of false boneset and trellises of virgin’s bower bloom. Tall blue bellflower and burdock and euonymus keep their blossoms, and fields glow with seven-foot wingstem, tall coneflowers, early purple ironweed, late bouncing bets and black-eyed Susans.

The latest wildflowers of the year, however, the heralds of Early Fall, are set to open. Bur marigolds, zigzag goldenrod, tall goldenrod, Jerusalem artichokes, broad-leafed swamp goldenrod, New England asters and small-flowered asters are budding.

The weakening sun accelerates its message to the monarchs and swallowtails and the fall webworms. Sparrows form larger flocks. Robins emerge from their Deep Summer retreats. Great murmurations of starlings become more common. Peaches, plums, grapes, blackberries, second-crop raspberries and elderberries sweeten, then close their seasons.

At the transition between Leo’s vast plateau of heat and color and Libra’s sudden collapse of the forest canopy, Virgo brings the first turning of the leaves and the first chance of frost to Yellow Springs. Hickory nuts, buckeyes and pecans fall to earth. The first black walnut leafturn and leafdrop began in the center of July’s Leo, and now the walnut trees are shedding, yards and paths filling with their leaves. The horse chestnuts follow, and then the cottonwoods and then box elders. 

The Field and Garden

Scout fields for late-season pests, for larval feeding scars, a sign of rootworm damage, second brood corn borer, second generation of bean leaf beetles, and rootworm beetles.

The potato harvest is usually a fourth complete. Wild grapes are ready to pick. A few fields are being prepared for winter wheat seeding.

About a tenth of soybean foliage in the lower Midwest has turned by now; the stage of their leaves measure the maturity of the corn.

ALMANACK LITERATURE

Making Our Kite

By Mary Mersereau, Montgomery, Mich.

It was during the Depression days, and we lived in midwestern Kansas. It seemed like those days of long ago things were more peaceful.

The fields were large, and the wind seemed to blow from the south most every day, and not fierce. And there was always time on one’s hands, so many out of work. My husband, Ted, was somewhat in this group.

Usually, we lived in town. But sometimes, when work was to be done, we stayed out to the Raymond Rixse farm, 180 acres of wheat. I and two babies and Ted. I did housework, and the lady did chores and took care of stock so the men could work longer in the fields.

Well, there came many days that Ted was out of work. And the man on the corner also. They decided to build a kite.

One could get brown paper at the grocery store by the yard, strong too. We traded some garden stuff for this and made glue – it was paste from flour and water.

Well, the men worked on the kite for several days. It was seven feet high by four feet wide, and it had a big tail besides.

Mr. Rixse gave us some twine, two big balls in fact. And, one nice breezy day out we went with the kite. It drew quite a gathering too, because some thought we wouldn’t get it away.

But up and up it went! The end of the first ball of twine was tied to the next ball, and then that was tied to a tree.

We laughed with glee. The twine was so long that soon we couldn’t see the kite anymore. Then came word: Wichita, Kans., thought it was a weapon or something the Germans had.

Then after a while, we cut it loose. And later we received a letter from Minnesota about its whereabouts. Cold air and no wind must have brought it down. But, as I remember, the Minnesota man said he’d fix it and send it on its way again.