It is cool here at the chicken ranch as I stand leaning against the porch post ready to begin the day. I gaze at the mist hanging over the bean and corn fields and appreciate the relatively cool air after weeks of insufferable heat. Larry the cat reminds me that it’s feeding time and he is growing impatient. “Take in the mornin air, Larry. Be patient.” Of course, he just looks at me like cats do. You know, that - it must be pitiful to be a human- look.”
There is something about August days. It is, I suppose, that summer has reached its maturity. Flowers are beginning to drop seeds, the fruit trees are getting ripe for picking; or by now empty, after yielding to the harvesting of their branches. The garden is past its peak and the leaves of the plants have lost their dark green luster.
Butterflies now abound after freeing themselves from the long bondage of their growth. They dance in a colorful kaleidoscope of winged beauty as they capture the breeze that carries them from blossom to blossom.
Hummingbirds, the speed demons of the bird kingdom, seem to be in a little bit more of a hurry as they go rapidly feeding from fading bloom to bloom. The colorful petals of the many flowers cover the ground more each day as the plants begin to rest.
Cicadas make their presence known as they make their canasta clicking song in the leaves of the trees. Crickets join in.The singing of the insects brings in the additional harmony of the Cardinals, Blue Jays and Robbins. The birds just can’t contain themselves; they have to have their voices heard. It’s all a beautiful symphony of summertime.
The sun rises in it’s silent powerful glow. Each day finds the glowing orb drifting further to the south. The days are shorter now by a few minutes each day. It will be hot soon enough, as the sun reminds us that it is not yielding easily the coming autumn and cooler times.
The cattle will soon be seeking shade in the trees along the creek. A few will venture into the water and allow the gentle cool caress to wash them free of bugs and dirt, and give their legs a rest. Dizzying clusters of insects fly in a frantic ball around the cattle. Only the occasional swish of their tail and a slight shake in the head indicates that the cattle pay any attention to these nervous bugs at all.
The days when the creek will be covered in ice, the banks full of snow, the trees bare, are hard to picture in this summer view. Yet, everything around me, the ears of corn descending, the slight yellowing of the soybeans, the general feeling in the air, all present evidence that summer is just beginning its downhill slide.
As hard as it is to picture it now, before too long, autumn will bring it’s glorious hue to the trees surrounding us. Then the trees will lay themselves bare and begin to sleep. Old Man Winter will not be long behind. But, that is in another place in time.
For now I am content to soak up this misty shirtsleeve morning. The sweat and toil belonging to this summers day is not yet upon me. A multitude of clouds are appearing in the sky above, where it seems that, as one author so poetically put it, “the angels must be hanging out their laundry.” I drink in all that this morning brings. Like the bounty of the garden, I want to harvest this feeling and store it for my winters memory during the gray and gloom of that time.
Larry is now contentedly munching on his breakfast and my coffee cup is empty. So, I take one more long deep breathing morning air and think that it’s time to begin the activity of the day. For now, it’s still Summer… and a summer days work needs to be done.
