Thursday, June 1, 2023

may becomes june

stitchwort, Stellaria media

The month of May zipped by in a stream of delightfully cool mornings and sunny days, with just enough intermittent rain and gloom to provide a perfect counterpoint. There is always so much to do at this time of year, and nearly every day of May presented at least one extra task of the "this must be done before that can be done" variety.

Here are things I know happened in the last week of May:

A load of 2022 hay was delivered. Hopefully there will be 2023 first cut hay available before this last load runs out, but it depends entirely on weather. As always. 

The mosquitoes arrived to keep the black flies company.

Driving home from an appointment which turned out not to exist due to a glitch at the office, I stopped to escort the first turtle of the turtle-escorting season safely across a busy road. Thus making the trip to a non-appointment both excellently timed and entirely worthwhile.

I misplaced two pairs of eyeglasses in one week. This is a record. Increasingly intense searching commenced, and soon reached the point where one looks in places where the missing item could not possibly be.

Friends visited with their lovely grandkids, 8 and 11, and brought a load of freshly-cut conifer branches to feed the goats. Possibly my favorite "hostess gift" ever.

After two days of searching in every likely and unlikely place, I found one pair of missing eyeglasses. They were in their own case, on the same table where I always keep them. In other words, the first place I had looked.

marsh marigold, Caltha palustris

It's often been nice enough to sketch outdoors, at least in the brief lull before biting bugs overcome their reluctance to fly through a miasma of herbal repellent. I've done many line drawings recently: one pen, one sketchbook, quick getaway.


One day while I was picking goutweed for the goats, I saw my micron pen fall from my shirt pocket. My hands were full and goats were waiting, so I shared out the goutweed before going back to pick up the pen. I could not find the pen. I looked and looked. I now expect it will suddenly turn up in the bean can where I keep my micron pens. On the table. Next to my glasses.

highbush blueberry, Vaccinium corymbosum

The last lilies of the valley of 2023:

Convallaria majalis

I treasure these tiny gems and have coaxed the few that were rescued from a goat paddock project several years ago into a slowly growing group inside the little wildlife area. A few weeks ago an unknown nighttime visitor crushed a section of the lightweight fence surrounding the wildlife area, leaving the lilies of the valley flattened beneath just as the flower buds were beginning to appear.
Well, heck, I said.
Darn it, I said.
I lifted the fence off right away, and hoped for the best.
Most of the plants survived, and enough flowers bloomed that I could bring in a couple of stems now and then. Lilies of the valley are my favorite for springtime fragrance.

Did you have a good month of May?
Do you have something special planned for June?