The cicadas began singing their strange song this week. Summer gets down to business when the cicadas come out. The days are getting shorter, but the heat is intensifying. Planting is over for a few weeks and the main activity in the garden is keeping the rampant growth in check. The weeds are taking over. There are blooms of squash bugs. The lettuce is trying to bolt. Everything is sweating. There is not a hint of fresh spring left.
My New England garden has seen the last of the strawberries and the first rounds of raspberries. No tomatoes yet, but the cucumbers are close. And there are squash blossoms. I’ll let this first round turn to fruit, but I suspect I’ll be making blossom fritters before long — just to keep the zucchini manageable. I have beans to pick every few days right now. No peas happened this year though. I’ll put some in for a fall crop, I think.
We’ve had a bit of a break from the heat and drought. It’s been a whole week since I had to haul a watering can across the street. Which is good, because the summer flu bug showed up with the cicadas and I’ve been rather out of sorts. But I felt good enough today to make jam for the first time in my Vermont home. Ginger berry, with strawberries and raspberries mixed. Turned out 8 pints of a gorgeous jewel-toned red, fragrant jam.
I’ve heard about the lazy days of summer. I really don’t know what that means. Maybe someone can explain it to me. Just give me a moment while I go pull the dock out the herb bed again…
The Wednesday Word
for 7 July 2021
You can respond in the comments below or make a Twitter post to the Wednesday Word. Either way, begin your response with #dependence. Your response can be anything made from words. I love poetry, but anything can be poetic and you needn’t even be limited to poetics. An observation, a story, a thought. Might even be an image, however, I am utterly uninterested in GIFs. In the spirit of word prompts, it’s best if you use the word; but I’m not even a stickler about that. Especially if you can convey the meaning without ever touching the word. In fact, in that case, I’d be rather impressed.
If responding in Twitter, you are limited to the forms of Twitter. I would prefer that there be no threads because that becomes difficult to parse in the notifications in-box. So if you have something long, post it in the comments below. That said, please don’t go too long. Let’s keep it under 2000 words, shall we. I’m not going to count, but I’m also not promising to read a dissertation. Unless it’s really good! This is supposed to be fun for me, after all.
If I receive something noteworthy, I’ll post it next week. If not, well, that’s fine too. I know you all are busy. But if you’ve read this far, then I’ve made you think about… summer.
fireflies dot fields unearthly lights in grand illusion almost sad in their dance just a twinge that cuts dragonflies hover majestically fleeting beauty in silent reverie almost mysterious in their dance purple curiosity that intrigues dance for me, my love show me that melancholy glow that luminous summer note then fly away reality is never as sweet and neither of us can leave this earth. . .
©Elizabeth Anker 2021