Fun in the Sun

June is an intoxicating month. It floods all the senses with delight. The green of the trees and the grasses, the colorful flowers in the garden and along the roadsides, the blue sky filled with billowing clouds, all make my eyes glad. I love the scent of new mown lawns and newly cut hay, the perfume of roses and mock orange. For taste we have the last of the spinach and asparagus and the first strawberries. And for touch, I love the warmth of the sun on my skin and to walk barefoot on soft dewy grass or press velvety roses to my face. In June the world responds to the increase in light with burgeoning life. Every part of the world is filled with living things exalting in the long, warm days and soft nights. The spring peepers are falling silent now, their courting time is done and the ponds are full of their tadpoles. Now the bullfrogs take their place, thrumming in the morning and evening like great bass strings being plucked along the reedy edges of the beaver pond. The fireflies have emerged to blink with magical light in the evenings.

A June morning.

Last week was hot. Not warm – hot. At least by Gold’s standards where we seldom hit 90° even in high summer. On Monday we reached 89° with 70% humidity. I spent all day outdoors working and sweating and loving it. I thought the rest of the week was supposed to be rainy (that’s what the forecast said), so I mowed the lawn thinking I wouldn’t have another chance for several days. After that, I planted things I knew would benefit from the coming rain. In the vegetable garden, I planted out my cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower, and basil. In the flower garden, I planted the rest of my flower seedlings. They all look a little puny right now from being in seed trays for so long, but now that they are in the soil, they should take off and grow quickly.

A bed of newly planted broccoli and cabbages behind.

On Monday a work crew from the electric company came through and cut down a tree on the Blake land (it isn’t the Blake land anymore, it’s part of the Shillig’s land, but I don’t know what else to call it). They are putting up high speed internet cable and said the tree was too close to the line. They said the rule is that trees must be 20 feet away from all poles and lines. That electric line has run next to that maple for many, many years and it was never a “problem” until now. It was a big maple. They also hacked off half the branches on the tree next to it, leaving a deformed and lopsided tree that is sure to blow over one day. I’m sad to see these trees cut and damaged. I don’t know why the life of a big tree is less important than a dead pole and some wires. They should have moved the line, not killed the tree. Their enforcement of that rule seems very arbitrary. There are plenty of trees around here that are closer to the power lines than 20 feet that they ignore. And last year when we informed them that several of our big pine trees that were dying were close to their wires, they came out and took a look and said they wouldn’t cut them down. We had to do it ourselves. After cutting down the Shillig’s tree, it looks like they are next going across the highway by the beaver pond to cut down a big wild apple tree there.

Cut and damaged trees.

Our hot weather continued on Tuesday and the rain predicted didn’t amount to much. I spent the day working in the heat. I planted out all my pumpkins, squash, and cucumbers. Then, because the rain was insufficient and there were newly planted plants, I had to water the whole garden by hand. The garden is almost complete now. Well, as complete as a garden ever is. I will continue to pull things out and tuck new things in over the entire summer, but now it’s time to mostly sit back and enjoy the show. And continually weed, of course.

The pumpkin and squash patch, but the plants are too small to see.

Wednesday remained hot and humid. I recruited the help of Miriam and the girls that morning and we tackled working in the meadow. Over the winter, the sumac jungle that grows in the east end of the meadow suffered a dieback. Everything above ground was dead, bare, and unsightly. I cut down all the dead wood and Miriam and the girls hauled it all to the burn pile. The sumacs are regrowing from their roots and by the end of summer should be lush and leafy again. Finally after a sultry afternoon, a thunderstorm rolled in. It poured huge raindrops for an hour. The girls put on their swimsuits and went out to play in the rain. They sat on the front porch steps and ate cupcakes in the rain. After the storm passed, I went out into the garden. The air was soft and had that fresh, wet earth smell. Some of the flowers suffered under the onslaught of the rain and wind. The lupins were bent over and the delicate poppies’ petals were dashed to pieces. But the rain was needed and the garden responded with renewed vigor.

The meadow with the dead sumacs removed.

Playing in the rain.

Eating cupcakes in the rain.

Thursday morning, after the previous day’s rain had cooled things down a little, I went out for my walk in a foggy, dripping, and dew drenched world. It was lovely walking with the fog swirling around me and the veiled sunlight shining down. After the sun came up, the fog vanished and the dew dried. The day warmed and I spent the rest of the morning outdoors fussing around in the gardens, inspecting the fruit trees, and weeding, of course. Later in the afternoon we went swimming at the Rigas’s.

Foggy morning.

The beaver pond in fog.

Foggy morning.

This is poppy time. The Shirley poppies (Papaver rhoeas) are in full bloom. The opium poppies (Papaver somniferum) will soon follow. I first planted poppies in 2001, after I’d dug the long border. Since then, they have proliferated, self-seeding and spreading all through the gardens. I let them grow wherever they want. Sometimes I introduce new seed into the mix. The different crosses create some amazing and strange colors. I love them. Every morning I go out to see what new blossoms have opened.

The long border with poppies, lupin, and columbines.

Poppies in the long border.

Some of the poppies.

More poppies.

One of the many things I love about June is the tall grass. Out in the orchard, in the meadow, and in unmowed fields all around, the grass is at its most beautiful. It is tall and green, getting ready to bloom, and gorgeous. I love the lush look of tall grass. I love the way it moves in the wind. As the heat of summer settles in, the grass will finish blooming and will turn the golden brown color it will hold for the rest of the season. I rejoice in it while it is still green.

Tall grass in the orchard.

Two of the most fragrant gifts of June are in flower now. The old pink rose under the linden tree is full of buds and blooms. It has a rich rose perfume. And out at the end of the lilac hedge and at the front corner of the house, the mock oranges are in bloom. The fragrance of mock orange is one of my favorite floral scents. It is the essence of early summer. Catching a whiff of it on a warm breeze fills me with nostalgia. Both the old rose and the mock oranges only bloom briefly through the month of June. Then I must wait another year to enjoy them again.

The old pink rose.

A closeup of the rose.

The mock orange out in the lilac hedge.

We had a lot of activity here all week. With Hazel, June, Mabel, and Florence here and the six Morris children next door at the Shillig’s house, it was go, go, go from the moment they all woke up until the moment they reluctantly went to bed. There was always something going on – jumping on the trampoline, riding the gator and the motorbikes, swinging, swimming at Rigas’s pool and at Erway’s pond, and playing all sorts of games. We had dress-up and art classes. Huge quantities of popsicles, otter pops, and ice cream cones were consumed. The children weren’t the only ones going all the time. The adults were constantly making food, suggesting games, enforcing clean-ups, and even managed to entertain themselves occasionally with games and conversation.

Art time.

Helping grandpa pick spinach.

Swimming at Rigas's.

Swimming at Erway's pond.

Erway's pond.

Cousins.

Friday afternoon Rachel and Tabor arrived. On Saturday morning the Morris family left to return home to Utah. We bid them a sad farewell. Hazel, June, and Mabel especially missed having cousins to play with. Hannah arrived home Saturday afternoon from her week at Geoffrey and Joni’s house in Utah. We are glad she’s home again. We missed her.

Good-bye to the Morris family.

I mowed for the second time in the week on Saturday morning and spent an hour hilling potatoes and weeding the new asparagus bed. In the afternoon Tabor and Miriam took Hazel, June, and Mabel fishing and I tagged along for a bit. We were at Uncle Dick Young’s pond (he’s actually my first cousin once removed, but we always call him Uncle Dick. He’ll be 89 in July.). The pond was low and full of algae, but the fish were biting. It’s strictly catch and release at Uncle Dick’s. While they were fishing, I took a stroll around the pond. The hedge on the fence line along the west side of the pond was full of blooming roses and blackberries. There are two kinds of wild rose there, Multiflora Rose (Rosa multiflora), which is a non-native, invasive species and is listed as a Class B Noxious Weed in Pennsylvania, but despite that, I love its fragrant white flowers. The other rose is a native species, the Swamp Rose (Rosa palustris). It has fragrant pink flowers. The wild blackberries were also in full bloom. I was surprised to find that they are fragrant too with a delicate sweet odor. After we returned from fishing, we spent a leisurely afternoon and evening. There was pasta and spinach rolls for dinner and games around the table afterward.

Uncle Dick's place.

Hazel and June and a fish.

Tabor and a bass.

Mabel and a bluegill.

Fragrant Rosa Multiflora.

Pink Swamp Rose.

Blooming blackberries.

Two weeks ago our church services went back to normal – two hour schedule, no masks required, we can sing again. But we were out of town for two weeks – one week in Utah and the next down state, so today was the first time we attended in our little branch with things “normal” again. It was so nice. I played the organ (I actually just push buttons, the organ plays itself). Stacey led the singing. And it was great to hear people’s voices lifted up in singing hymns again. Now we are home from church. It is a beautiful Sabbath day. Lunch preparations are underway. We’re having one of those all American meals – hamburgers, potato salad, watermelon. Kurt and Julie are coming over. Today is Miriam’s birthday and there will be celebratory treats. Miriam spent a lot of time in the kitchen yesterday preparing them. She made fruit tarts, angel food cake, and lemon buttermilk gelato.

Later this afternoon the Thayns will go home. Things will be very quiet here for a little while. Then things will rev up again at the end of the month when the Thayns return and Geoffrey and his family and our nephew Aaron and his family and the Fosters arrive to spend some happy time together in July.

One of last week's sunrises.

Dan