welcome August

A couple of hours ago there was a sudden torrential downpour, right in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

An hour later, the sun was shining again, and the air was cool and sweet with the smell of flowers.

Lately, people here talk about the weather with such heartfelt relief in their voices, after the long wearisome rains, heat, and high humidity of early summer.

Seems like we had the Dog Days of August in May and June, this year. There was only one way to deal with it, and it only worked for some of us.

But recently we've been enjoying delightful glimpses of May.

In July and August.

Unexpected.

Refreshing.

Miraculous.

Blue skies.

Cool mornings, with clear air.

It may not last.

Heck, it will not last.

But these are moments and hours and days to savor.

And you never know...

there may be more miracles waiting in the wings.

~~~

I hope you are enjoying the beginning of August, whether you are in the middle of summer or the middle of winter, or somewhere in between.

~~~~~

first fruit

Pattypan squash is my favorite summer squash, and I can't always find it at the local farm stands.

So this year, I bought three organic seedlings as soon as they were available at the feed store, then waited and waited and waited  for the weather to warm up enough and dry up enough to plant them.

My nagging fear was that I would somehow manage to kill the little plants before I could get them in the ground.

There is some historical basis for this fear, I am very sorry to say.

~~~

On 25 May, I planted the three squash, each alongside reputedly protective companion plants: pot marigolds and calendula.

As you can plainly see, I miscalculated the "companionable" factor to an absurd degree, and planted them way too close together.  Not sure what my thought process was, there. Maybe I was picturing the protective marigold having to physically rear back and thump a caterpillar on the head if called upon to do so.

Note: I have since gently relocated some of these brave guardians, to their very obvious relief. It is impossible to grow sideways fast enough and far enough to escape the shade of a squash-leaf canopy!

This pattypan variety is said to produce deep yellow squash with dark green caps.  I waited to see some yellow before picking this squash, but it was growing so large I didn't want to wait any longer and risk toughness or hard seeds.

Or a flood or drought or insects or a tornado landing on my garden.

Some of these things have happened before.

But not this morning!

At this exciting moment moment of harvest, Sambucus suddenly turned away from the hay feeder - and the Closing Soon Milk Bar - and headed toward me with a purposeful step.

"Pardon me, ma'am! Do not proceed further. I must examine that squash immediately."

Have you ever crossed a border where the guards were required to examine any fruit or vegetables before allowing you to enter their territory? It was just like that.

"Glad the kid has finally got a job! This hanging around the Milk Bar is getting old. I need some time off to focus on...well, hay."

I know what you mean, Violet. I also had a delicious breakfast today, and paid attention to every bite.

~~~~~

tsuga tuesday

"Hi! I'm Tsuga. I'm the cute one."

"This is the other Tsuga, Tsuga canadensis.
Told you - I'm the cute one!"

"Ever since I was about two weeks old, none of the fences around here work properly anymore. Only my head fits through the holes! What fun is that? I ask you!"

"Some goats stop nibbling on peoples' clothing at an early age. They decide it's just not worthwhile." 

"Well, I'm no quitter! I am confident that one day, a piece of clothing is going to be edible. Or at the very least, tear-able! I shall persevere!"

"My perseverance certainly pays off in other areas." 

"Guess what? This bit of twine may be holding the tarp in place.  What will you give me not to pull on it? Think fast - LOL!"

"When I was only two days old, I didn't know anything.
I couldn't wait to tackle the universe.

I thought the world would be my oyster oatfield."

"I was so right."

~~~~~

miscellaneous mushrooms

~~~

(Just because they always catch my eye. So intriguing!)

~~~~~

bogging

One place where Piper and I often go for a walk (me) and a run (Piper) is a few miles from home. There is a road along each side of a pond, and we go to whichever side has no cars in the parking area because if there are other walkers, I feel I must keep Piper on lead.

By "pond," in this case, I mean a very shallow, wide, mucky wetland.

Historically, this area was once known as a "water meadow." I think this may be a term that came over with the 17th- and 18th-century settlers, but which is no longer in common usage here. Maybe it is still used in other places?

If any readers have heard this term used to describe a landscape or environment, please do speak up in the comments! Thank you!

I interpret "water meadow" to mean an area which supported meadow vegetation but which would typically contain standing or running water for at least part of the year. I picture it used as rough pasture where cattle could be turned out for grazing.  (I really do "picture it."  I see it as an 18th-century engraving of cattle grazing in a rough, lowland meadow, with both sedge-y and hedge-y vegetation. You probably know exactly the sort of engraving I mean.)

At some point in more recent history, a small dam was built at one end, turning the water meadow into a shallow pond.

Piper doesn't care for swimming.  I carefully introduced her to swimming in a lovely clear unmucky lake when she was a youngster, and she discovered that she doesn't enjoy the feeling of bouyancy.  Even after all these years of various water adventures, she finds the moment when she can't feel the bottom anymore - well, not scary exactly, because she is a Big Dog, not a Little Baby Dog - rather unsettling.

But that's okay, Piper always knows how to make her own fun.  In years past, when we used to go for walks with my friend Sue and Piper's friend Wolfgang, Wolfie would leap into water and swim purposefully out after as many sticks as a person could toss. Meanwhile, Piper would plunge back and through the shallows, making lots of huge splashes and saying to us all, "Look at me! I'm swimming, too!"

Piper does enjoy shallow water, and it doesn't have to be lovely clean water, oh no. Piper enjoys bogging. And since the pond we often walk along is pretty much one big bog, I always tell Piper at the start of a walk whether or not she is free to go into the water that day. It often just depends on which side of the pond we are walking along.

Hock-deep in muck

On the east side of the pond, there is a little brook where Piper can go paddling and rinse off most of the muck just before getting in the car to go home.

Piper in the rinse cycle.

On the west side of the pond, the side with the little dam, there is no brook.  There is only More Muck.  No rinsing option here.

Looks like a rinse opportunity, but it's really a few inches of muddy water atop more - you guessed it! - muck.

Yesterday we visited the west side, and as soon as we got into the woods and I took the lead off, I asked Piper to stay out of the water. "Please stay out of the water, Piper," I said.

"More running, no water. Got it!"

All went smoothly until I got distracted for a while:

I never buy blueberries, because they never taste like this.

After a splendid feast that comes once a year with luck, I noticed the woods had grown quiet. I whistled for Piper and soon heard her galloping toward me through the underbrush.

But she stopped just out of sight.

I suddenly had a sort of premonition.

It was truer than most premonitions.

Oh Piper.

"Hi! What?"

"Oh. Uh. Erm. I forgot."

"But look how happy I am!"

It's pretty much impossible to be cross with a happy Piper.  I think this is one of Piper's best features, actually. It's certainly a lucky feature, from Piper's perspective!

But readers?

You are so lucky this is not a scratch-and-sniff picture!

We drove home with all the windows wide open. And the car sat in the sun with all the doors wide open all afternoon, until I had to drive for two hours round-trip to pick up hay. Last night I left the car crammed chockablock full of hay bales, hopefully replacing the smell of muck with the smell of fresh meadow grass.

Oddly, I just this moment realized we've come full circle with another kind of "water meadow"!

~~~~~