August 1, 2024
Ahhh… There is a full month of summer’s pleasures ahead of us. We need this time to restore our faith so let us make a silent commitment to make the best of each day. Slow down and listen to the birdsong with your morning coffee. Walk barefoot in the cool wet dew and stay awhile to watch it dry on the grass. There’s still time to pick up that summer read that’s been calling to you. Sit in the cool shade and absorb the exquisite beauty of a summer afternoon. Maybe if you are lucky, you can get a few pages read. That is, if you don’t get too distracted from all those nibbling chores that need to be done.
This summer arrived on a cloud of heat, and the first weeks of July brought relentless searing sun, scorching record temps and a stewpot of humidity. Then came the clouds and fog and rain. We are thankful that this is not a drought year like we had a couple of years ago or the relentless bouts of rain like last summer. But still, the humidity saps the energy from the body and drains the soul. A towel laid to dry never seems to do so. I love hanging laundry so that’s one reason why I won’t live in Florida. When I was young and growing up in a small house in Westport with my five siblings, we never had air conditioning. Not even in the small attic bedrooms where a small window fan provided the only relief. Now, it seems that air conditioning has become necessary for so many. I still adore summer, but I am beginning to understand the love affair so many have with Autumn’s chill.
In the vegetable garden, the peas were the first to give up in exhaustion. It could have been the long rainy spring where they kind of wallowed in the mud or maybe it was the humidity that did them in. They never got enough of the cold sunny spring days they cherish and so produced a mere handful of snap peas. I’ll have to take note of the seed variety; but as to the weather, that’s out of my control. Maybe I should experiment with two varieties next year. It’s worth the garden space just to have the opportunity to crunch into a fresh pea on a spring morning. The strawberries didn’t perform all that well either and perhaps for the same reason; but with the frequent sun and rain, the raspberries are prolific this year. The peach trees are brimming with fruit too.
The hydrangeas are having their heyday with more blossoms than leaves it seems. They are positively laden, and many that have been dormant for years have decided to give life a glorious whirl. There is a lace cap under the shade of a wild cherry that hasn’t bloomed in nearly ten years. I had forgotten what its blooms even looked like, but it is dazzling in its full array of lacy blue blooms.
For whatever reason, it seems to be a prolific year for so many plants. This might have something to do with the untimely frost last year when many fruit trees and bushes were wiped out. Nipped in the bud one might say, but stronger now for the set back. One year’s fallow brings another year’s gain. Our resilient plant life reminds me of the Olympians taking stage in Paris where so many have been defeated in the past by other worthy opponents. And these things that work against success can come in many different shapes and forms. These twisty little demons put on many guises in order to wreak havoc in the body and the mind. And yet they persevere. The medal is merely a symbol of the glory of reaching a long sought after achievement.
Resiliency seems to be the common key here for plants and humans alike. We all face our own little heroic battles, most fought privately and not on a stage. We have our lean times that make us ponder and consider and reconsider. We learn from our downfalls and our defeats. We get back up stronger, for we know we must. That is the human spirit. We arise to find a new day and find that we are more humbled and compassionate for the experience.
