THE LONG HOT SUMMER

Unusual dry hot weather this summer in Central Pennsylvania has browned the lawns and wilted and dried flowers and vegetable plants. I am amazed to see my daisies and other hardy flowers have already gone to seed.

I keep forgetting that Autumn doesn’t officially begin until September 22 this year, so there's time to still enjoy the summer. Tomatoes are ripening on the vines, not as large as in past years, but still plump, rosy red, and delicious—especially with a dash of salt on them. Only our daily watering has saved them from withering on the vine.    

My first very colorful and multicolored calibrachoas plant, beautiful with red, white and blue blossoms, succumbed to the heat early this summer. I replaced it with a pot of impatiens and have my fingers crossed. Even my coleus plants are struggling, despite their shady location behind a wall of ferns.

What likes this weather? Our four hanging ferns on the patio. They are basking in the humidity of the day, thanks to daily watering.

If we’re lucky, we occasionally see a thunderstorm appear on the horizon teasing us with dark steely clouds and flashes of lightning. The parched ground is only too eager to take a drink. But the amount of downpour, although sometimes slamming down in a quick torrential rush, only offers a slight relief to the vegetation and the ninety-degree temperatures of each day.

Scott and I like to watch our feathered friends, so I keep two feeders filled with seed in the middle of our yard. The bird bath nearby takes a hit each day, and I have to clean and refill it almost daily. It’s a small price to pay for the show the birds put on when we eat our meals and watch them out the windows in our dining room. Sparrows, robins, finches, thrushes, woodpeckers, and many others keep us entertained with their antics.

I think this summer has been unique. I had been hoping to see it as a busy outside one. Then, I realized that the heat that drives us inside has a purpose. There is a time to rest and a time for action. This summer seems to be telling me not to hurry, but to slow down and take some time to rest… and just enjoy life.

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!

Before I forget, HUCKLEBERRY HAPPINESS 

                                                             releases on the 24th as well. 

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