I love August. I love the lushness of it, and knowing that it is the last hurrah before winter makes it even sweeter. I love the overgrown bushes, the fish and the berries, and the flowers spilling out of the crowded window boxes. I love the bolting chard in the garden, the tangle of sweet peas and nasturtiums, the seed-headed fireweed, and bright raspberries and cherries bursting on canes and trees. I even love the thigh-high weeds and beach grasses. The abundance of it is astounding. I feel rich just looking at the counter lined with jars of salmon. Last night, late, there were fireworks on Pyramid Island for CP's birthday party. Fireworks seem more appropriate in August than early July. This is a firecracker kind of month- summer's final flash and bang.