This morning, in Madison Wisconsin, the sun rose at 5:18 a.m. and it set at 8:40 p.m. It is not the earliest sunrise of the year (5:17, a few days back) nor is it the latest sunset (8:41, a few days forward). Nonetheless, it is for us the longest day, with the greatest amount of sunlight, daylight, and a beautiful tilt toward the sun!
Happy summer solstice to all us Northerners. We have waited a long time for this splendid moment of peak light -- and with it -- growth, bounty, and color.
In the past, I was often away for summer solstice. Some of my favorite moments from this day came when I happen to run into local celebrations, usually with music and merrymaking that went on long into the night. Here in Madison, we have also had musical events -- free, informal, all over town, yours for the asking. But, Ed and I have grown to love our farmhouse evenings too much to do anything so bold and daring as going out after dinner! Still, to all music loving people, put it on tonight and do a little dance, even if only at home, okay? I will if you will.
Today is also the anniversary of the Chicago young couple's marriage. They were wed on farmette land and so their spirit hangs here, especially on this beautiful June day. Happy happy anniversary to you!
What a day, packed with good vibes, packed with sunshine, filled with love. And a little bit of adventure.
First, the usual farmette sagas: some animal has been making nocturnal visits to the sheep shed. It knocks out the cat door and plunges inside in search of cat food. Ed has started locking up all traces of food in the bathroom and still, we see that the nocturnal visitor was in the shed yet again, creating the usual mess. Poor cats. The sheep shed was a safe haven for them.
We also had a baby raccoon visit the coop at night. He or she did not get inside, but still, Ed had to deal with that issue, while I fed the farmette girls and boys and fixed breakfast.
It is a hot day. I know this is now repetitious. Indeed, our weather pattern is repetitious. Relatively hot and humid (I mean, not as bad as Texas!), and at the same time dry and without any sign of rain. My task for the day is to finish up doing my mom's paperwork. It does require a trip to her bank. It seems obvious that I should live my newfound love of e-bike riding. The nearest bank branch (as measured by bike path miles) is a mere 7 or 8 miles away. Easy peasy, no?
I take the "southern route" going there (encountering these two friendly guys on the path!)...
I get the papers I need and return the "northern way" -- along the Capital Bike Trail. As I do my leisurely pedaling, pausing here to admire the arching trees...
I glance at my watch. Wait, what? Didn't I leave the bike station at 11:45? It is now 1:05. Even with an Annual Pass, aren't I allowed only 90 minute rental intervals without penalty? Shoot!
I pedal as if my life depended on it. The new knee is telling me to slow down. My lack of familiarity with the consequences of a late return is telling me to ignore the knee and keep pedaling! I pull up to the station 3 minutes late, push the machine into the rack and exhale (wishing very much I had thought to bring a water bottle). I slowly walk the 15 minutes home.
Looking up the rules once I'm at the farmhouse gives me some insight into how this rental system works. First of all, I see that I could have gone a full 30 minutes overtime and I would have been charged only $3 for it. Today, my lateness fell JUST into a grace period of 3 minutes, so no additional charges there! And there's a way around it, had I given this any thought heading out: I could have swapped bikes along the way at another station and started the clock all over again. I said to Ed -- it helps to learn the rules before you plunge into something new. He grins at that -- I think you've learned all the rules by now. There aren't that many.
And now it's time to bring out the hose. I cannot watch the flowers dry up. I just cannot.
And in the evening, while Ed is doing his usual cycling loop, I sit out on the porch and reflect: on the beauty of this day. On the warm evening of the longest day of the year.
(the continuing charm of sweet peas...)
(I have a lot of lavender, even outside the lavender fields. This winter was good for most of these plants.)
(Penstemon lines the secret path...)
Happy arrival of summer!
