Summer for me is marked by the wheel of perennial flowers in my garden. We are precisely at the point where there are only three days of day lily blooms left and the black eyed susans are just beginning to uncurl their first gold petals. I noticed this year that it's not until the end of June when the locusts really tune up that monotonous drone that I always associate with lying outside trying to get a tan as a teenage. It's a really hot and boring thing to do anywhere but the beach. And not very smart! In the backyard the tomatoes are still green and the sunflowers are blooming. Some time ago I wrote a poem for the passage of summer that comes just before this.
Ode to June, the most
beautiful month,
full of roses, beginnings,
soft breezes, swinging in hammocks.
Those cottony, white clouds
shot through with blue heaven are June,
singing soundlessly above us,
June, June, June,
crickets, screen doors, porch
lights, lilacs, moonlight, blue sky,
cows moving slowly through
waist high grass.
We’re on the upswing now in
balmy, breezy, blowy June,
June bug June, lilac June,
rose petals and showers June.
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| My garden- this is actually late May |
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