Is it early summer or late spring? The leaves, fully mature, tell a summer story. The weather—thankfully a little cool after an unprecedented heat wave the end of May—speaks of late spring.
Whatever the case, it is a time of beauty. The biting blackflies are gone, and the mosquitoes are few in numbers. We can sit on the patio until six and not be bothered. Not at all usual for this time of year when the mosquitoes are generally out in force. I expect it’s because May has been dry. While we surely need the rain, I am grateful that this weather is keeping the mosquitoes down. Last year, with a cold, rainy June, it was just the reverse, and the mosquitoes came in hordes, tormenting us until fall.
Therefore, at the end of the day, Clif and I relax on the patio with a snack and a drink, sometimes alcoholic, most times not. In the woods, in the distance, a wood thrush sings its ethereal song. Closer to us on the edge of the yard are the goldfinches, tweeting and quarreling. There are woodpeckers and hummingbirds. Cardinals. Nuthatches. Sometimes, from the nearby Narrows, we hear loons. Dragonflies zoom with astonishing precision. Chipmunks race after each other.
Surrounded by the flutter and dash of life, I ask Clif, “How are we so lucky?”
After a few moments of silence, he replies, “We made the right choice.”
That we did. Not always a given as Clif and I are not known for our practicality. But when we moved to Winthrop, we were debating between two houses—one in a little development and one in the woods.
We chose the home in the woods.
Here are some pictures taken in the last day or two at our home in the woods:
The flash of red, a cardinal at the feeder.
The bubbling of the blue fountain.
A dandelion poking its head up among the ferns.
And finally, the front yard, green against red, edged by many hostas.
For years and years, I yearned for a cottage garden bursting with color. While this love of color will never go away, my home in the woods, surrounded by green, is the place I want to be.