THE JOY OF JULY

There’s something poignant and special about July. For northern folks in the United States, it means our summer is one-third over—if we count our summer as June, July, and August.

July brings us a heap of good things to experience like beautiful sunsets and the glorious sweet scent of milkweeds blooming along the roadsides shouldering their way among daisies and Queen Anne’s lace. And of course, there’s glorious warm sunshine to enjoy.                                   

My favorite spot during the summer is on our swing on our covered patio, hung near the far edge of the terrace where you can view the stars at night or enjoy a fire blazing in a fireplace several feet beyond. When peace and quiet call the soul, you can sit there any time of the day and just absorb the soothing sounds of country life. The wind whispering in the trees. Birds prattling to each other. The lonesome whistle of a distant train.    

Muggy nights encourage us to linger outside and watch the lightning bugs dance in the grass or watch heat lightning flash across the inky sky. If we’re lucky, we might catch the plaintive call of an owl or night hawk hiding in a nearby tree.

I’m always in awe of the earth beneath us when July rolls around. A garden is one kind of a miracle. We carefully set our plants—flowers, vegetables, and herbs—in the tilled ground or in the buckets in our bucket garden for them to magically flourish using the gifts of soil, sunshine, and showers. Already, parsley, thyme, rosemary, chives, and oregano are ready for use in our summertime sauces, marinates, and favorite dishes.

July is also considered the ideal month for fireworks, picnics, weddings, and celebrations. But it’s also a special time to find joy in the little things and to appreciate the season with its bounty and beauty…even when we know it will end much too soon.

                                         Find them on my AMAZON AUTHOR Page

                JUNE ~ The Pianist        ADELENE ~ The Violinist       LUCY ~ The Clarinetist

 

SUMMER ON MY SWING - Pondering Answers

“Hot July brings cooling showers, apricots and gillyflowers.” - Sara Coleridge

I admit as a writer I enjoy time alone to sit and think which is why I like July, why I like summer. My patio swing calls me to rest, enjoy the warm days or balmy nights, and ponder the world. It’s said curiosity is instrumental in driving our thought processes. It’s when I’m wrapped in that solitude when I ask questions which may or may not have answers: 

• Why can’t we see the wind? 
• How does the song sparrow learn its many different songs?
• Do woodpeckers get headaches? 
  
• What do northern squirrels think when they eat their first southern peanut from my bird feeder? Can they have an allergy to them? 
• Fireflies flash in patterns that are unique to each species. Have they ever learned another pattern like we learn second languages? 
• Why was the daisy chosen to be the flower plucked with the chant: He loves me, he loves me not?

 And my weird wondering brain chugs along…

Maybe in our attempt to explain things in nature, we need to accept there are mysteries which may never have explanations. As humans, we like explanations. We like plans. We like the predictable.

And, we like to ponder.

After all, isn’t that what creativity really is? The use of our imaginations or original ideas in the production of an artistic work?

So I leave you with this July wish: Take time to rest, relax, and contemplate the world around you. And if you get a bizarre or curious thought, drop it in the comment box below so we all can ponder the answer!

 

Visit my AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE to see all my books.

 

HAYING SEASON ON THE FARM

July has arrived this year after a blistering June which ended with temperatures in the 90s. Growing up on a farm, the muggy nights and heat waves during the day were part of farm life.

The scorching summer weather meant it was haying season. It meant that farm kids had the hot, sticky job of handling and storing those prickly rectangles of bound hay, tied with twine and full of itchy hayseeds, called bales. There is a particular smell to a haying operation. It’s the inviting sweet scent of dried clover and other grasses, tinged with the scent of gasoline from farm equipment. The work is hard and tiresome. We handled hundreds of bales kicked out from a baler, pulled by our Farmall C tractor.

If we were lucky, the baler was hitched to the tractor and the hay wagon hooked behind it. We only had to pull the bales up onto the wagon bed as they popped out and stack them four layers high before hauling the load to the barn for storage. Two-string bales can weigh anywhere from 40 to 75 pounds, depending upon the type of hay, how seasoned or dry it is, and how the baler is set to compact them.

Before we owned a hay baler that fed the bales onto the wagon, they were dropped onto the ground. Then, we’d have to toss them up onto the hay wagon first before stacking and carting them away.

In the barnyard, an elevator with a chain mechanism and paddles took the bales up to the very stifling mow where they were…(wait for it)…restacked once again. If I was lucky, I had the job of feeding the elevator below in the hot sun and would get a break from working the even hotter mow. Needless to say, we all vied for that open-air spot.

My father was particular about how he wanted his hay stored. The bales had to be stacked cut-side down in the mow. I always felt we were giving more attention to this hot sticky—and somewhat finicky—stacking routine than I cared to give.

Why cut-side down? Because the strings/twine will always be on the side of the bale when you look at the stack. It is said to also deter mice from gnawing on the twine, but it also allows moisture to run down through the stack to the bottom layer. Much

later, baler twine was treated with a chemical that discouraged barn mice. I do admit, come winter, when you have to throw bales down the shoot to feed the herd below, it was easier to walk on a layer of hay uniformly stacked.

Someone once asked me if I miss summer and haying season on the farm. A friend, who’s a farm kid as well, put it more eloquently than I ever could: “Be careful of the past, it always looks better than it was.”

Here's hoping July and your summer is a good one!

 

  

Click Here for AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE