When the trees around you are very large, excessively so and a front with high winds passes through, it really is a fantastic, or unnerving, or thrilling experience (depending on your disposition) to be right there, in the thick of it, watching the limbs heave and sway...
Sitting on the porch (grading away! oops, sorry!), I feel protected. Especially since the direction of the gusts is such that the old willow (with very brittle limbs) bends its massive weight away from the farmhouse.
The odd part is that because of our tall trees, the courtyard of the farmette – meaning the woodchipped space between the farmhouse, garage, sheepshed, barn and writer’s shed – is always rather calm.
And in the heat of the afternoon sun, you’d think not even a chipmunk would be stirring.
You’d be wrong. I read that the little devils sleep fifteen hours per day and though this may be impressive to the human who can hardly eek out seven or eight, it does still leave nine hours unaccounted for. Me, I can tell you where the extended family of our resident rodents is partying. Right in their favorite place of carnival-like delirium: the front flower bed.
And so it should come as no surprise that I want to photograph emergent flowers. Catch ‘em quick before they get carted off for a meal of all meals.
It is a very hot day. We bike to Paul’s because we feel we should, rather than because it’s pleasant. The wind is so strong that I mark spaces between tall trees, in the same way one plays musical chairs, staying close to one until the next becomes safe.
We bike, too, to the Thursday afternoon market, hoping for some fruits, finally some fruits – it’s so hot I feel we should not still be buying fruits from California and our frozen peaches from last summer just aren't cutting it anymore. They may be quaintly delectable in January or February, but now they just taste slimy and a tad old.
Well now... I see strawberries!
The first of the season! Fantastic! How much? Oh, okay... Maybe next time....
I’m delighted with the weather and with life in general, only I would not mind just a small interruption in all this glorious sunny stuff. I admit it – I’m a little bit hoping for rain. Spot watering for an hour and a half each evening is good, but a solid soak would be even better. And if there is a torrential rain that would wash away our lettuce patch – why that would be okay with me as well! At least I would not have to witness torn up beds the morning after the chipmunks’ wild night out.
...even as my own wild night consists of clearing supper dishes, watching reruns of Modern Family and forcing myself to stay awake to put up this post, to the tune of Ed’s rhythmic snoring.