This seems like more of a hellish summer than usual, which is what I think every year. Summer is always a time when I stay indoors with the air conditioner on if the heat and humidity get to extremely uncomfortable levels. Even when it is cool in the very early morning I have to dress in long sleeves and head covering, my pants tucked into my socks, to protect myself from the many insects that would otherwise bite any uncovered area.
Summer flowers - coneflower, zinnias, daisies,
coreopsis (Margo D. Beller)
This year's weather has produced enough rain to make me glad I did not call for the sprinkler to be turned on, and to produce mushrooms in the lawn. It has kept my half-dead dogwood tree alive and given my yard guy gainful employment.
The rain has been good for my cannas and my flowers, including the zinnia and marigold seeds I planted. With the daisies, coreopsis and conflowers blooming now I can finally cut my own bouquet instead of paying to make one at the farmstand I frequent for summer vegetables. The rain also prompted enough weeds to force me to pull them from all over the garden over the course of three early mornings, before the sun, humidity and my sore body drove me inside.
I gave up on what I had thought were pepper seedlings. They were weeds, so I'll be buying my peppers this year.
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| Not a pepper after all. (Margo D. Beller) |
And then there is the continual prospect of smoke from Canadian wildfires mixing with the usual high levels of ozone each time the wind comes out of an otherwise pleasant northwesterly direction. Will the fires continue into the fall when the migrants start heading south?
It has been hard to get myself walking in this weather, even harder to go listen for birds. At this time of year it's rare I find a bird that I couldn't find in my backyard, so I don't usually bother. In the backyard the robins are going after ripe fruit in the black cherry tree, the catbird family members chase each other around the yard, and chipping and song sparrows call from the trees. I hear the cardinals in the morning and have a brief temptation to put out seed for them. But then I remember these birds eat the insects that plague me and don't need my seed now.
I could follow the usual flock of birders down the coast and look for the shorebirds that spend the summer in New Jersey. But the one time we went shorebirding in summer we were attacked by greenhead flies, which meant staying in the car with the windows up as we drove the tour road.
So I sit on my porch in the early morning with the fan on, sipping my coffee as my neighbors go off to work or get their kids ready for camp. That is how I see the cardinals, robins, catbirds and occasional others in my yard. (The hummingbird feeder has yet to draw a single bird, unfortunately, even with the pink flowers in bloom near it.)
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| Wren nest box (Margo D. Beller) |
Then there is the house wren box. A few weeks ago, long after the first pair of wrens and their young departed, another pair actively investigated the box and seemed ready to use the old nest inside. Then, once again, something happened.
After a few days when I wasn't on the porch I came out one morning to find a male singing loud and long but no activity at the box. In fact, over the next few days if a female showed up he chased her away. We went away for a few days but as of yesterday he was still around, tho' not singing as loudly or as often. I am no expert on house wren behavior despite all the writing I do about them, so I have no idea what is going on.
In a few weeks the male will be gone and the box will be brought down and emptied. The summer heat will be a distant memory, I hope.
