Ah, Summer

It is high summer. I know that ever since the spring equinox on June 21, the days have been getting shorter, but I feel like they are longer in July than at any other time of the year. Maybe it is the heat—I end up staying outside longer and so I notice the lingering light. Watching the moon rise above the woods to the east has been our evening entertainment this past week. That, and the nightly show by the lightening bugs. They twinkle like Christmas lights against the dark mass of the woods. The cat sits on the porch all tidy with her tail wrapped around her body, watching the display too.

The grasses are going to seed. Their colors shift and change into clouds of light purple and gray, beige and sage green. The cicadas are singing—one of my favorite summer sounds. I stepped on one in the grass the other day while wearing sandals. Something buzzed on my toes and caused me to startle backwards. I looked and saw one sitting in the grass with its beady eyes staring up at me. Its lightweight, translucent wings looked incongruent next to its chunky, armored body. I admired the purple and green on the wings, iridescent like an oil slick, before stepping back and moving along. I used to pick those things up when I was a kid, but no more.

Flowers bloom all year in a succession across the meadows. Here are the latest highlights.

Bees buzzing on the butterfly weed

The hostas by the house are safe from deer this year since we humans are there. Hummingbirds come to visit their fluted shapes.

A patch of rudbeckia and daisy fleabane grew where John removed some old wood he had piled high for a few years. It has been flourishing for weeks now.

The frittilaries are all over the coneflower at all times of the day.

A close up of a shooting star hydrandgea that my sister Kathy gave to me. I love the hint of blue in the center.

Another close up of the echevaria that my Aunt Lainey gve to me.

Happy mid-summer everyone!