August, buzzing August. During the day, there is the high-pitched whir of the grasshoppers. At night, a chorus of crickets. (I know. I keep going on about crickets and grasshoppers. But I love their songs so much. ) The days have been hot but not humid, and the nights are pleasantly cool.

Last week we got a whole inch of blessed rain, not a downpour that beat down the garden but instead nice and steady. More rain is expected today, and again it will be most welcome.

What is it about raindrops on flowers?

Speaking of flowers…the August flowers and vegetables continue to thrive.

Coleuses, moved from the front porch so that Clif can work on the window, peek through the rail from the driveway.

The black-eyed Susans continue to brighten the late summer garden.

In the back garden, there are plenty of ripe tomatoes to have some every day for my lunch. Soon, perhaps, there will be enough to make a sauce. The variety I plant is Juliette, one of the few tomatoes that thrive in my part sun, part shade backyard. However, I love this sweet, sturdy mini-roma tomato so much that I would plant them even if I had a sunny yard.

On Saturday, a hot but dry day, we met friends in Augusta’s small but lovely Capitol Park for pizza and a chat. We are still being cautious about get togethers, and we like to meet outdoors.

Here is a longer view.

Finally, a treat of a package came last week—The Necromancer’s Daughter, a new fantasy novel by my blogging friend D. Wallace Peach. Wonderful cover, and I’m certainly looking forward to reading the book.

Summer, beautiful summer is here. At night June bugs, as large as small stones, whirr and rattle against the screens. No doubt they are attracted by the light. Some people don’t like the noise, but to me June bugs sound like summer, and I always look forward to their return. Also on the screens, fireflies blink on and off, on and off, little sprites in the dark night.

“Look!” I cry whenever I see a spot of light, and Clif and Dee duly look.

In a month’s time, the leaves on the trees have gone from a bright fringe to a deep mature green, and I love the sighing sound they make when the wind moves through them.

On the brink of blooming, my gardens are still mostly shades of green, which is a color, too, as my blogging friend Quercus once reminded me. But there are bits of color here and there.

Tomorrow—June 21—is the longest day of the year, the first day of summer, and one of the sweetest days. It is also the anniversary of my mother’s birthday, and if she were alive, she would be eighty-six.  Happy birthday, Mom! Wish you were still here so we could celebrate it with you.

The weather this June has been absolutely delightful—a little cool, which this Mainer loves—with exactly the right amounts of sun and rain. Because of this, I’ve hardly had to water the gardens, and it’s no surprise that everything is lush and green. Unlike last June, we’ve not had to use Eva, our air conditioner, at all. Indeed, yesterday was so rainy and chilly—the temp didn’t get above 60—that Clif started a small fire in the wood furnace to take away the chill and damp. My kind of June.

The editing on my book Of Time and Magic continues. The deadline for the cover is next Tuesday. Even afterwards, I’ll continue to tweak and polish. I can’t seem to help myself. As long as I don’t add any pages, I’ll be fine.

The  forecast for this week promises more delightful summer weather, with rain and sun and temps in the 70s. I know some of my blogging friends are enduring very hot weather, and I wish I could send a little of our perfect Maine weather your way.

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And now for something completely different, courtesy—surprise, surprise—of NPR’s Tiny Desk Concerts.

This is not the kind of music I usually listen to, but somehow I find Monsieur Periné’s peppy music irresistible. The lead singer is so quick and cute that it makes me smile just to watch her.