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