Showing posts with label June. Show all posts
Showing posts with label June. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 1, 2022

IT'S JUNE!

Suddenly it’s June. It’s the month I’ve been waiting for all year. June ushers in summer for me here in Pennsylvania.

As a farm kid, it was the month of clover, alfalfa, and grasses drying in the rows in our fields. Smells were everywhere: The odor of gasoline from the tractor, hay truck, and lawn mower. The sweet fragrance of summer rag roses in the yard. The earthy aroma of rain as it approaches to soak the ground. The whiff of mint circling the old oak spring boxes in the pastures. These were all mixed together in the daily harmony of farm life.

There was also the unexpected that happened to throw a person off kilter. It was the black snake slithering over a stone wall as we tramped down the fields to the pasture to bring the herd of cows home for evening milking. Better yet, it was those aggravating times when the black racer’s lazy cousin, lying in the low branches of a hemlock tree, would drop down in front of the herd and send the cows racing willy-nilly up into the wooded hillside where we had to regroup them one by one. And we always counted. Numerous times we counted those cows to be sure we had them all before setting out for home.

Old Hay Loader
When evening fell, we’d sit out on our front porch to catch a fading breeze and watch the barn swallows circle the sky and deftly snatch the last mosquito. Lightening bugs danced above the lawn and in the bushes. Windows were thrown open wide. If you were lucky, you had a window fan on the hottest night. The hum of insects in the grasses and trees were the songs that lulled us to sleep. Far off, you could hear the neighbor’s dog bark, upset by some night creature nearby. And everyone listened for the eerie hoots of an owl on his evening hunt.

When people ask if summers were the hard times of farm life, I’d have to say, they were the busy and tiring times with long days. But they were the good times.

It was June. It was summer. And it felt wonderful. 

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Tuesday, June 8, 2021

HERE COMES SUMMER..with its sights, scents, and sounds!

In June, I patiently search for the first signs of summer.

Listen closely, and you can hear the birdsong at sunrise. It’s the doves at our house who start the calliope of song if we leave our bedroom windows open. The nosy robins are back, nesting under our deck and in the rhododendron. Their first fledglings have already been booted out of the nest and intermittently (and annoyingly) squawk, calling for a parent. The brazen sparrows have also returned and have kicked the bluebirds out of their nesting box. Only one lone hummingbird visits our feeder.

Rain in June is a silver spoon as the old adage goes. It’s the month when vegetation emerges and gardens in the North are planted which will yield bountiful crops throughout the next four months and into fall. This year, my bucket garden has been watered quite often by the gray clouds hovering in the sky. I decided to change it up a bit. I’m growing some herbs: lemon thyme, rosemary, oregano, and parsley. Every year I grow a plant of basil on the patio.

The flower of June is the rose which is my favorite because of its soft, layered petals and delicate scent.

I was lucky to be born on a scorching, 90+ degree, June day—the last one of the month—right in the middle of haying season, as my Dad used to point out with a slight grumble in his voice.

When June arrives, farmers push hard during the sweltering sunny days to get a hay field cut, dried, and baled. The sweet and intoxicating scent of newly mowed grass fills the air and forces everyone near to pause and enjoy it, even if the work of cutting, baling, and storing it is hot, intense, and tiresome.

Do you have favorite sights, scents, and sounds of summer?

As poet James Russell Lowell so aptly writes about the month:

And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays: 
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten…

                                    ~ James Russell Lowell – 1819-1891

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Sunday, June 14, 2020

JUNE has busted out all over!


June has busted out all over. With all the wet stuff falling from the sky, the month has lived up to the phrase, “Rain in June is a silver spoon.”

The landscape centers and greenhouses are stuffed with trays of flowers and potted plants. My neighborhood is a kaleidoscope of flowerbeds, filled with marigolds, petunias, dianthus, and other vibrant blossoms  Even my frosted ferns have sent up fiddle heads that have unfurled into leafy fronds, ’though not as high and lush as in other years.

In the wisteria beside out backdoor deck, the robins have hatched three little ones and are busy feeding them. This year we have a robin's nest in the rhododendrons and bushes on four sides of our house. Here is a little one that fell into one of our buckets and was rescued by my husband. 
And speaking of birds, my feeders with sunflower seeds, mixed songbird seed, and Nyjer seed are emptied each day. The pesky, unruly grackles, perching in the adjacent treetops and singing their creaking, grating songs, have found a way to balance upside down on the suit cake and try their best to devour it before the woodpeckers.

I’m especially proud of my bucket garden which is thriving. It’s a work in progress. I’m learning the ropes and have my fingers crossed. We already have lettuce and parsley.  

What do I miss most about the month of June? The sweet smell of new mown alfalfa or clover drying in the farm fields.  Maybe it’s time to take a ride into the countryside nearby to find a hay field and get the repetitious, famous lyrics of Carousel by Rogers and Hammerstein out of my head:  just because it’s June, June, June!

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Monday, June 3, 2019

"Rain in June is a silver spoon."


There is an old farmer’s saying, “Rain in June is a silver spoon,” and “A good rain in June sets all in tune.” This year, I think we all can easily say that the rains are welcome to stop for a little while and let the earth dry.
 
I’m going to be honest. June is one of my favorite months of the year. It’s my birthday month, but it ushers in the beginning of summer and warmer, sun-drenched days ahead.

Across our Central Pennsylvania landscape, the grass in the fields is lush and taller than knee-high. Fluffy clouds in a baby blue sky scud along on the breeze, and the air holds the sweet mingled scents of many different blossoms. One of my favorite flowers is the rose, which is also the flower of June.

I have tried to raise roses for many, many years. I’ve tried climbing, bush, miniature, tea, hybrid, knock-out—and the list goes on and on. What our friendly deer don’t eat, the remainder dies from the cold, freezing winters.

I have only a clump of old-fashioned rag roses left, which I dug out from around the foundation of an old house from the 1800s on our farm in Northeastern Pennsylvania. This hardy variety seems to be able to hold its own, despite the rabbits munching down the stalks under the snows.

If you have a favorite month of the year, please share it. If you have a favorite flower, please share that as well. 


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Thursday, June 7, 2018

June Is Haying Season in Pennsylvania


June is the month that kicks off haying season in Pennsylvania. Along the byways and roads, you'll see farmers cutting, tedding (aerating the grasses), and baling their fields of hay.

It is the barns that fascinate me, especially the bank or banked barns. They are a unique style of barn noted for their accessibility on two separate levels. Often built into the side of a hill, or bank, both the upper and the lower floors area could be accessed from ground level, one area at the top of the hill and the other at the bottom.
 
In a typical Pennsylvania barn, the upper floor was a hayloft and the lower was a stable and milking parlor where the cattle were held in stanchions and milked twice a day.

The doors on bank barns were typically on the long sidewall. They were usually double doors, often on tracks, and were wide enough to allow for the hay wagons to enter. With William Penn's promise of freedom and inexpensive land, many settlers came to Pennsylvania. Among these settlers were the Germans, who are given credit for designing  bank barns on their lands.

My family were farmers and we owned a bank barn. I have many childhood memories of playing in the loose hay in the loft. Later, of course, square hay balers came into existence, eliminating the need for hay loaders. Later, round balers became widely used because they allowed tractors to move the heavy bales which were cut, bound, covered, and stacked along the sides of fields—eliminating the use of the hayloft.