We’re having a wet summer, so I write this as a mourning dove is cooing in the distance. My grandmother said they call for rain. It’s predicted for this week as a tropical storm is expected to hit South Carolina, and the rain will likely move up the coast and drench the mid-Atlantic. The garden, especially the weeds, are growing in profusion. My husband, Rob, likes to refer to the growth as the jungle in the movie Jumanji.
Thus far, it’s been a glorious summer in many ways. I’m working to cherish the peaceful moments I can snag in my garden. There are several places to sit in cooler shade as the sun travels from east to west. Each offers a unique view of the plants. I’m waiting for the native Clethra to bloom, which will bring in the butterflies. They seem fewer to me this year, but I’ve spotted a few yellow swallowtails and a striking zebra Swallowtail. There are a couple of smaller butterflies that I need to identify by name. The Clethra, when it blooms, usually brings in droves of hummingbirds and butterflies.
One of our favorite family activities is sitting by the fire pit whenever we get the chance. Evening dinners are on the ‘fine china’ of paper plates that can be burned in the fire. We burn a lot of yard waste in the fire pit, primarily the wild strawberry, wild mint, and wild wisteria that plague the property. The mint gives a sweet smell to the fire. We burn fallen sticks, twigs, and logs from the nearby trees, too.
One of my favorite things each fine morning is to stir up the coals and feed them fuel so that they spring back to life and offer a little warmth. I sit by the fire and enjoy my coffee, and think about the day. It’s a pleasure to watch the sky turn from a pearly gray of dawn brighten to a soft blue.
Today, as it turns towards eight, most of the noise from the fishing boats racing down the bay has dissipated, leaving the vista on the water one of my favorite colors – Antwerpen blue. The birds are talking with one another. They’re now having a lazy conversation. They already announced the excitement of the sun returning for another day, but now their cacophony is quelled.
An occasional hummingbird flits from feeder to garden flowers. They nearly burrow in the tubular flowers of the hosta that look like lavender trumpets.
Beside me, in a small pot, some remaining violas are bearing the summer’s heat at my elbow. Single marigolds raise their faces to the sun in this partly-shaded part of the garden.
It’s a happy morning. I am so ready for more good things and a peaceful day.
Photo by Justine Heinitz on Unsplash
