Hello Summer

"Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the village had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which had looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months, had now burst into strong life and health; and stretching forth their green arms over the thirsty ground, converted open and naked spots into choice nooks, where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to look upon the wide prospect, steeped in sunshine, which lay stretched out beyond. The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing."

~Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist

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Hotter Than A Pepper Sprout

The heat and humidity is relentless today, even the birds are staying inside their nests.

The head gardener has been house-washing for the past three days, quite the job I can tell you.

My job consists of window cleaning, and keeping a watchful eye out on the worker, as he negotiates the steep roof.

I believe this is more stressful, than doing the actual work !

Well...…not quite.

 😺

 

 

 

 

 

Home Sweet Home

 

 

 " A person travels the whole world over
 in search of what he needs

   and returns home to find it. "

 

         ~George Moore

              

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Bee-ing Busy

The garden is all abuzz, with bees, and butterflies, lightning bugs and ladybugs.
All so very busy dutifully distributing the pollen amongst the flowers.
I thank them more than words can say.

 

 

 

 

 

 Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry
Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms.
His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.
His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!

~ Emily Dickinson : The Bee (1830)

 

 

Porch Days

Incredible blue skies and sunshine today. Lots of the stuff, it surely feels like we are in the midst of summer with this 90 degree heat.
True to form, my dearest decides to landscape, in this blazing sun, he tolerates the extreme Southern heat and humidity much more than I do.
Norseman's blood runs through my veins, after the temperature rises above 80 degrees I'm wilted like a head of week-old lettuce.
I do very well cleaning off the porches, with a little shade overhead, so with my trusty feline companions by my side, I'm scrubbing tables, and chairs, and being the cold water-runner, when I see the gardener flailing.

 

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Knee Deep In June

Tell you what I like the best --

'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, -- some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,
And not work at nothin' else!"

~ James Witcomb Riley : Knee Deep in June

 

 

Sweet Wild Rose

 

 

 

  My Wild Rose.

I had a garden, which I kept
With busy hands and tender care;
And once, while carelessly I slept,
Fanned softly by the drowsy air,
A wild rose to my garden crept,
And blossomed there.

O, sweet surprise. It seemed to me,
Some fair hand, my heart to bless,
Had brought it there, from wood or lee.
It came unsought 'twas loved no less;
I stooped and touched it tenderly,
With soft caress.

I grew to love it passing well;
While strange exotics, rich and rare,
With heart of gold and crimson bell,
Paid grudgingly for constant care,
My wild rose, as in a woodland dell,
Bloomed fresh and fair.

I watered not, I did not prune,
I tied it not with cord or thong;
Yet, morn by morn and noon by noon,
Through days of summer, hot and long,
And underneath the midnight moon,
From branches strong.

Hung clustered blossoms sweet and red;
And day by day and week by week,
I trod the path which toward it lead.
Whate'er my mood. I did not speak,
But close against bowed my head
And pressed my cheek.

I think of it with sudden thrill.
Now wide lands lie, deep water flows,
Smiles many a vale, looms many a hill
Between me and the garden-close;
Yet fondly I remember still
My sweet wild rose.

~ Ellen P. Allerton. Walls of Corn and Other Poems 1894

 

Sunday Repose

 "As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful."

~ Laura Ingalis Wilder

The Fairest Month

I can't believe that June is already upon us,  where have the months gone.

One minute we were watching snowflakes fall, the next the landscape is green and full of new promise.

School children are out on Summer vacation, the sound of laughter returns.

Heat and humidity are now a daily occurrence, followed by cooling, nightly pop-up storms.

The season's first garden-grown tomatoes are ripe for the picking, and those coveted sweet Vidalia onions are back in the stores.

How time flies...….

 

 

 "Mine is the Month of Roses; yes, and mine
The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights
And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,
The foliage of the valleys and the heights.
Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;
The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;
I am the mother of all dear delights;
I am the fairest daughter of the year."

~  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nature's Living Lanterns

We enjoyed sitting on the porch in the cool evening air last night, discussing our day, and savoring an ice-cream cone.
In the darkness of the woods I noticed a tiny twinkling light nestled in the tree line, and then another, and several more......
The Lightning Bugs have returned !
Most people know about Lightning Bugs, cute little flying beetles with bottoms that light up at dusk to facilitate one task all life forms are driven to accomplish – reproduction.
In Middle Tennessee, our Lightning Bugs come out once the sun is well below the horizon and produce a bright yellow green light that blinks on and off in the gathering night.
In the coming few weeks the darkness of the woods will be lit by the twinkling lights and mating rituals of the Lightning Bugs, or Fireflies as known to non-Southerners, meeting and creating beautiful luminescence together.

Close your eyes and think back to the long hot summers of childhood.
Playing outside until late in the evening, sitting on the front porch eating ice-cold watermelon slices, listening to the crickets chirp, and the tree frogs sing.
Remember catching Lightning Bugs and keeping them in a Mason jar ?
They glowed beside you all night long sitting on your night table....
Innocence and childhood going hand in hand.

The magic has returned