18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, August 2, 1913: I don’t remember exactly.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
It almost sounds like Grandma didn’t write this entry until the following day since she can’t remember what she did on August 2. Since she didn’t write much a hundred years ago today–—I’m going to go back to her diary entry on the 1st.
It was a relatively long entry and included her monthly poem for August:
The month of August with skies serene
Smiles upon this world again.
Let us welcome her with open arms,
For sweet summer cannot always reign.
I also can sense that sweet summer will end too soon. The days are getting shorter. . . and the wind is blowing over the wheat stubble.
A question—Does anyone know the poem that has a line that says something like: When the wind blows over the wheat stubble, Fall can’t be far away.
My father used to always say a poem with those lines on late summer days when there was just a hint of fall in the air. I think that he memorized it when he was in elementary school—but I can’t find it when I search online.