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.
