Spring abounds at the little house in the big woods. Ferns are unfurling, and violets and bluets have begun dotting the lawn.
In the sun, budding leaves glow like little lanterns, lighting the way for the delightful month.
My gardens are late gardens, coming into their own in July. So far, the only blooms are pink hyacinths. But the foliage of the growing plants is lush, green, and healthy, a good way to start the season.
A couple of days ago, the evening was so warm and free of blackflies—thank you, little breeze—that Clif and I had drinks on the patio. Birds called as they fluttered from the trees to the feeders, and we had the usual suspects—goldfinches, chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, cardinals, and tufted titmice.
Uncharacteristically, Liam—no rodent dog—was on red squirrel patrol, and he had positioned himself under one of their favorite trees. Recently, Liam had had what might be called a little tête à tête with a red squirrel, and since then he has been obsessed with them. Well, it gives the old dog something to think about, and he does them no harm. In true herding dog fashion, Liam trots after the red squirrels and stares at them, and I have not seen him snap or bite at them.
Soon, the blackflies will be gone, and good riddance to them. Weather permitting, we will be able to have our supper on the patio most evenings. We will be planning grilled bread and salad gatherings with our friends. In Maine, the time of warm weather is short, and Clif and I want to squeeze in as much as we can.