The Days Between Seasons

A Small Note From the Mountains

THE TAURUS MOUNTAINS

August 2026

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There is a particular feeling to the mountains at the end of August. The mornings can still be warm enough to feel like summer, while a sudden cloud or an afternoon shower reminds you that the season has already begun to turn.

We noticed it mostly while walking.

We spent many of these days on the paths around the house, sometimes under a hot sun, sometimes with rain coming in over the pines. The landscape seemed to change slightly from one walk to the next. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to make us pay attention.

At home, we were doing some of the quieter work of this time of year. Peppers and tomatoes were laid out to dry, catching the softer afternoon sun. Cherries went into a jar to become liqueur, something we will return to later rather than now.

There is something reassuring about making things that require you to wait.

You do what your hands can do, and then you leave the rest to time. A pepper dries. Cherries change. Summer becomes something that can be opened again later.

We think there is a kind of wisdom in that, especially at the edge of a season. Not everything has to be finished immediately. Some things are better when they are allowed to become what they are going to be.

We are back from the mountains now, and September is beginning to take shape around us. The days ahead will bring their own rhythm, but we are carrying a few things back with us: the smell of rain on the paths, the sight of peppers drying in the sun, and a jar of cherries waiting quietly on a shelf.

Perhaps that is enough of a way to keep a summer.

 With warmth,

Prickly Pears Sisters

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