September Border

Verona, Wisconsin, September 2008. Things are starting to look a little tired.

Welcome, Autumn

Madison, Wisconsin, October 2005. Did you think yesterday was the first day of Autumn?

September Tour

Taliesen Estate, Spring Green, Wisconsin, September 2007. It's a quiet tour.

Late-Summer Frame

Taliesen Estate, Spring Green, Wisconsin, September 2007. The gardens tire at summer's end.

Look-Up Reunion

Pope Farm Conservancy, Verona, Wisconsin, August 2013. It's really not overcast.

Departure

Lake Nipissing, Ontario, Canada, July 1964. This is one of the photos Dad took as a memento of a vacation's end. Mom's wearing that lovely mohair sweater, and Dad is in his familiar, plaid shirt. You can see Samoset Lodge in the background.

(Stretch pants.)

Effort

Verona, Wisconsin, August 2008. I no longer put this much work into the border.

Welcome, Autumn

Verona, Wisconsin, October 2007. Just a few hours of Summer remain.

Another Departure

Lac du Flambeau, Wisconsin, July 1962. We film another vacation departure. The best part of a vacation is the prospect of returning home.

Still

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Summer will continue for three weeks, but the season ends.

Leaving

Parry Sound, Ontario, Canada, July 1959. My Parents later never took Dad's VW to our vacation destinations because Mom didn't know how to drive a manual-transmission car.

I'd rather stay here.

Wasaga Beach, Ontario, Canada, July 1960. It's tough when a long vacation ends.

They peak this week.

Pope Farm Conservancy, Verona, Wisconsin, August 2013. Most of the blooms have opened.

Related by Marriage: He was imagining something.

Addison, Illinois, August 21, 1965. Mr. Irene saddles in for a ride at Adventureland. His Mom wrote the exact date on this photo; I suspect this memento is from an end-of-summer outing.

I am ready to go home.

Lake Nipissing, Ontario, Canada, July 1965. It's the end of our long summer vacation.

We are leaving now.

My Parents took a month-long vacation each summer. Who takes off four consecutive weeks from work these days? My Mom and her medical partner made an arrangement for the annual holiday when they started working together. Extended vacations were more common where my Dad worked because things at the lab moved slowly in the summer.

I can't imagine being away from home for a month; after all, I start to anticipate the return almost as soon as I reach a destination. I don't recall whether my Parents paid bills in advance or what steps they took to secure the house. I do remember how Dad and I picked up the pile of mail that the Post Office had held during the interval. Oh: our dog, Gigi, spent the month with the woman who had given her to us.

We often stayed in places that had no phone service, so if something had happened back home, we were be difficult to reach. There were no televisions, and many of our (mountainous) destinations had spotty radio reception. As a result, we infrequently caught the news. We were in the Badlands, for example, when Dad saw a headline about the Richard Speck murders. I was glad we weren't in Chicago because I reasoned that if Speck hadn't been caught, then I would be hiding under my bed. We were in Austria in 1971 when we saw a German-language edition of TIME Magazine announcing "Satchmo is Dead."

My Best Friend and my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, sent letters to me. I anxiously checked the mail at our lodgings each day. By the time the vacation ended, I was ready to go home.

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. The best part of a vacation is its end.

I never met a dog I didn't like (Late Summer 2013)

Madison, Wisconsin, 2013. It's been a while since I posted a photo in the little "I never met a dog I didn't like" series. This is a lovely "Parti Poodle;" she was breakfasting with her master.

Why do I have two large bags? I was carrying several knitting projects.

A Late-Summer Favorite

Verona, Wisconsin, September 2007. We used to grow many zinnia plants for cutting. I've been fond of the flower since I was a child.

Morning Graze, in Three Takes

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Verona, Wisconsin, September 2013. The horses are at this spot every morning.

The days get shorter.

Lac du Flambeau, Wisconsin, July 1962. It's never sad to see a season end.