in the heat of the day

What does it say about us hardened northerners that when the temps reach the mid seventies F (about 24C) it feels hot? Short sleeves, no jacket, not even a sweater on my morning walk.

(the colors of May!)

(the final round of tulips)

 

 

 

And a lovely breakfast out on the porch because it offers plenty of northern exposure shade.

But immediately afterwards, we go out back to continue with the tree planting. We're finishing on the pecans and starting in on the English walnuts. Both tree types require sunlight and so we work out in full sunshine.

And it feels hot. 

We mow down another row of prairie and prairie invasives and the soil feels stubborn, and the roots of weeds that took over this once farm pasture land are deep, and the work is hard enough for Ed to say -- I hope that at least fifty percent of these trees make it. It's a lot of work for them all to fail.

Why should they fail? - I ask, more out of defiance rather than curiosity.

Who knows if these young roots can compete with the aggressive stuff that's growing there now. 

But these trees sprout and do fine in forests, where they have to compete with other trees! I say this again daring them to fail on us. "You do well in a forest, can't you managed a weed infested prairie?" The fact is, we don't know.

In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop at school. There are only ten days left of classroom instruction. It's funny to think in terms of vacation -- it's been such a strange school year!

Is it too hot for her as well? She is so in love with her cotton cardigans. More clouds roll in...

 

 

But I had been feeling toasty, so I had decided to clean out the small baby wading pool I have had for her since she was a one year old. As the summer season unfolds, this small nothing will have little to offer for her. But since it's the first time that I've filled it with water (hoping the hose water would warm up by the time she came here), her joy at seeing it (and the handful of the cheap color faded toys that I threw in with it when she was just a toddler) is immense!

Yes, of course she wants to play in it! cardigan comes off, swimsuit comes on.

(The young chicks wonder -- what is this now? Something for us??)

(Splashing Gogs is a must...)

Evening. 

 

 

 

Ed and I had planted only three trees this morning. Time to return to the fields. The sun is low, the fragrance of sprouting plant life is everywhere. But we turn our backs on the trees for now. We have to get going on the tomatoes. Thirty two plants planted tonight, a similar sized batch tomorrow.

 

 

 

It is there, out in the tomato field that I pick up a call from Primrose. 

 

 

She ends the day for us, in that nothing else that follows is either memorable or significant. The night brings in cool air. We have no more tax forms to fill out (they were all due today!). Just trees to plant. Still lots of trees to plant.