Tall mullein spikes are flowering, and milkweed leaves are turning brown and gold, amid the lavender carpet of pesky, invasive spotted knapweed. If only the beauty of that invader's blossoms did not tint entire hillsides and fields with the color that tells us summer's end is drawing nearer --. If it were not quite so successful in taking over, it would doubtless be easier to hate. Instead, when morning walks or evening drives take me past open expanses in their August hues, I am carried back in memory to long-ago August vacations, the one or two weeks Up North that my downstate job permitted, and I feel again the poignancy of that fleeting time.
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