Last Saturday, the evening was as fine as only an evening can be in Maine in late July. It was warm, but not too warm. Clif had just mowed the lawn, and the backyard was filled with the wonderful smell of newly cut grass. I puttered in my gardens, pulling a few weeds, nipping spent flowers. Landing on the blue bird bath, a gold finch first fluttered in the water and then drank.
We had invited our friends Paul and Judy over for homemade raspberry ice cream, and when they arrived, I asked, “Outside or in?”
“Outside,” came the prompt answer.
The better to admire the bee balm and the daylilies as we sipped iced tea and ate homemade ice cream.
“I really like those daylilies with the red center and the pink surround,” Paul said.
The lilies—Mardi Gras Parade—are indeed lovely little flowers.
“Would you like to have some?” I asked. “They need to be divided. I’ll give you some next year, if you like.”
“I’ll put it on the calendar, so I can remember,” Judy said.
“And don’t hesitate to remind me,” I said. “I never mind being reminded.”
Judy laughed and said she would.
As we ate, hummingbirds came to the feeder and the bee balm for their evening meal. Dusk settled over the backyard and with it came the dampness. We all agreed it was time to go inside for some hot tea, but how good it had been to sit outside on the patio as we talked, ate ice cream, and looked at birds and flowers.