In late summer, the flowers are holding their own kind of fading parade. The roses are a little crispy at the edges, dahlias blaze like tired fireworks, and the echinacea lean into the sunlight with regal defiance. There’s a sultry stillness to everything — like the whole garden has decided it deserves a nap.

The gardener walks through with clippers in one hand and a half-hearted to-do list in the other. Deadheading here, tying up there, but mostly just admiring the chaos: marigolds that never quit, cosmos that reseeded themselves with wild abandon, and zinnias, bless them, still posing like it’s their first day of summer.

It’s too hot for grand ambitions. The borders are shaggy, the watering is inconsistent, but somehow it’s beautiful. A little overgrown, a little dramatic — August at its finest…

~Oleksandra Orlova~