The Wonders of Mid-June

The tiger lilies line the back drive next to my neighbor’s fence. They stand tall and singular, yet together they make a crowd. I am reminded of a parade, people held back by an invisible line, and yet craning their necks for a view of what’s to come, even though it will pass by right in front of them soon enough.

It’s the end of the school year here in the northeast. On the last day, teachers line up in the parking lot and wave to the children as the yellow school buses haul them away for summer vacation. I can visualize both the sigh of relief as well as the tears in the eyes of the staff—and the kids.

The echinacea have blossomed. They’re one of those plants that show every stage of development at the same time. While some of the flowers are tiny, others begin to turn a light pink; older ones are bright, deep pink with petals that have pushed back to look like a shuttlecock or someone sticking their head out of a fast-moving car. They have spread a lot since last year, moving into the territory of the iris greens. I like that they all live together and I prefer the cottage-like freedom to the neat and tidy borders of the more elegant, structured gardens.

The lavender has found its roots, finally, and is growing full and lofty. I run my hand through it just to have the fragrance close by as I move through my day. I have cut it and dried it, but it never has the same smell as when it is still in the ground.

Bright lemon-yellow goldfinches are exuberant about the dry thistle in their freshly-cleaned feeders. Babies of various bird varieties abound and are easy to spot with their bed-head feathers and odd, trusting behaviors. I enjoy watching the downy woodpecker and female cardinal share the safflower cylinder, each eating away on their own side of the white tower, content to share as long as they don’t see each other.

I learned once about closing my eyes and identifying five sounds in nature. It is easy to get to three but then I question myself about the next two. Did I hear that one already? After five, the sounds multiply and I could easily count more. Birds, bugs, rustling leaves, my dog’s snore, my cat’s meow. It all counts.

Even my own sigh.