A Saturday Morning on the Cusp of Autumn
Autumn,
it's been in the air.
I sense a meteorological shift that I usually don't feel this early in the year at this altitude.
Some mornings or evenings, the air is so cool and crisp, I think I am again living in the mountains.
"Close enough," I think to myself.
While I don't live in the mountains,
I live in the next best place:
in a valley that begins at the foothills of the Front Range of Colorado.
Hints of atmospheric changes surround me.
Fresh cool air soothes me as I fall asleep at night.
The sounds of the six o'clock bells from the church at
Mount St. Francis,
carried a mile down the valley to my house by gentle valley breezes,
awaken me each morning at 6:00 as they drift into an open bedroom window.
For many school has begun.
Autumn is on its way.
We are on the cusp of autumn.
Cusp
[kuhsp]
noun
a
point
that
marks
the
beginning
of
a
change
a point of transition: turning point, edge, verge
Transition is never an easy thing for me.
I've never been able to transition from one point of time to another easily.
I stay firmly planted in the time in which I find myself,
even as I wish to transition to another time.
I'm in no hurry to transition to autumn.
I'm in no hurry to transition to autumn.
I recognize that the days and nights are changing.
Another season will soon draw to an end, and we will be entering another one.
Today, a Saturday on the cusp of autumn,
wishing to hang on to the few summer days we have left,
I ask my husband if he would like to go to the
It is no secret that I love going to the Margarita at Pine Creek.
It is only two miles from my house.
It is only two miles from my house.
One of my favorite summertime things to do is to have breakfast outside on one of the patios for this restaurant on a Saturday.
It is unbelievable that today is the first time this year we have attended the Farmers' Market held here.
It is windy when we arrive.
We both are hungry, so we decide to eat before we shop for produce.
Jim knows what I love to eat on these special Saturday mornings: artichoke and feta egg puffs.
"Of course I will also share some coffee cake with you." I say to him with a smile.
The coffee cake is also one of my favorite things.
The coffee cake is also one of my favorite things.
Yum!
He orders my breakfast treat as I search for a table in the shade.
Tables are hard to find.
Tables in the shade are even harder to find.
I find us a place just as the wind really begins to kick-up.
One of the helpers comes over to the table and takes down the umbrella that provides shade.
She says, "This wind is making this table a dangerous place with the umbrella up. If you want shade, you may go into the lower patio."
Usually, I would want to be where the action is among all the other folks who are enjoying the ambiance of The Margarita.
Today, there is no live band, so I really am quite happy about going to the patio where there is shade and no other people.
In this quiet and sheltered place,
one of my favorite places to be,
a place where I have memories of meals shared with loved ones and dear friends,
I am able to eat, reflect, and takes photos without any distractions.
I find a table under a rustic canopy made of native tree branches.
I admire the unique designs of the building that houses the main restaurant.
"I love this place."
I think to myself,
These summer Saturday mornings are nearly gone for this year; enjoy the gift of today in this place.
I admire the ponderosa pine that gives us additional shelter from the sun.
The wind has stopped.
The wind has stopped.
"Look at the size of that ponderosa," I say to Jim.
I wonder how long it has been in this spot.
Gazing at the tree, and the perfect setting for a table,
I remember playing under a favorite tree during the carefree days of childhood.
Inspired by the stories about pioneers and native American Indians,
my cousins, sister and I would build make-believe tepees under pine trees.
I remember playing under a favorite tree during the carefree days of childhood.
Inspired by the stories about pioneers and native American Indians,
my cousins, sister and I would build make-believe tepees under pine trees.
We would pretend we lived in the wild and lived under trees.
We would sweep pine needles into a pile, cover them with doll blankets and put our "babies" to bed.
I notice a delphinium planted in a pot and placed next to our table.
Note to self:
Next year think outside the box.
Plant a delphinium in a pot on the porch where the deer can't get it.
Sometimes we must look at things with a new slant
if the way we have always done things is no longer working.
if the way we have always done things is no longer working.
After I have eaten, I go exploring with my iPhone camera.
I've been on the patio before, but it was always filled with people.
I'm excited to find all the great spots where great food can be enjoyed during lunch and dinner.
I've been on the patio before, but it was always filled with people.
I'm excited to find all the great spots where great food can be enjoyed during lunch and dinner.
Nasturtiums growing in boxes create a nice background for this spot.
I've never seen this area before.
I guess the funkiness of design is what always fascinates me about The Margarita at Pine Creek.
Everywhere I looks, I see small touches that add to whimsical charm of this place.
See the dog footprints in the cement.
I love that.
We lingered at our table under the trees enjoying the surroundings and the beauty of the day.
A unique circumstance of a gust of wind had allowed us to have this private place to enjoy our breakfast today.
It was the perfect place to enjoy a late summer Saturday.
Too soon, I remember we came for produce,
so we made our way to the Farmers' Market in the area just below our quiet place of retreat.
The harvest is another reminder that summer is nearly over.
Autumn can't be far off.
Cusp
a noun: person, place or thing
Cusp - a place
Like it our not, summer is drawing to a close.
We are on the cusp of autumn.
This is a time of transition.
What will the next season bring?
a noun: person, place or thing
Cusp - a place
Like it our not, summer is drawing to a close.
We are on the cusp of autumn.
This is a time of transition.
What will the next season bring?