Friday, June 26, 2020

Mother Nature soothes our worried brows with summer


Summer is truly a gift in Maine.  As the wind howls and the snowstorms rage in February, we are sustained by memories of crisp, fresh June mornings.  This year the need for solace and serenity has been urgent as we battle the uncertainties and heartaches of a worldwide crisis.  The pandemic has rendered us virtually helpless and created a society divided by fear, lack of answers and a leadership vacuum.  Along comes Mother Nature to help ease the pain.

Maybe it is that critical need that has amplified the wonderful sights, sounds and smells of summer this year.  Early in the spring, the daffodils and hyacinths exploded with unprecedented vibrance and vigor. 


The tulips followed with depths of color I hadn't seen in years. The Irises and Peonies made their debuts with amazing flourish.












And then came the roses...Oh, the roses!

My favorite yellow floribunda roses were first, as usual. Their delicate fragrance always brings me back to my first "fancy" gift of english soaps sent by my godmother when I was about ten. There have been years when we only saw a few blossoms or even no blossoms at all.  This year it was as if the bush sensed our need for that beauty and calming scent and stepped up her game. The relatively short bloom period was compensated for by its intensity.



Not to be outdone, the two Henry Hudson rosebushes have budded and bloomed faster and with more enthusiasm than ever before. 


Adjacent to them, the taller "Grumpy Old Lady" rose said, "Ok, if you want to play THAT game" and has come out with bigger, more plentiful blooms that envelope the entire yard with a sultry fragrance. 




















The "Grumpy Old Man" rose who sits on the other side of the vegetable garden has seen what was going on and, not to be shown up by the Old Lady, has blasted out the most amazing blanket of blooms, aiming to surpass her visually since his fragrance, while potent, is no match for hers. 




The little rosebush with flame colored buds has done her best, despite her size and a tough beginning to the season.  Brendan cut her back quite a bit, removing some dead branches and she has rewarded us with gorgeous orange  blooms. 



Finally, the newest addition, a little scarlet, overcame some aphid issues with the help of a spray bottle with water and dish detergent and is now producing blooms of deep crimson with a heady, rich aroma. 


And so the "War of the Roses" rages on, much to my delight!

As a special addition to our backyard biosphere this summer Mama Robin constructed a nest within a few yards of our back porch, visible (with foliage obstruction) from our upstairs windows.  We held our breath since a similar attempt a few years ago yielded four beautiful eggs which met with disaster, most likely due to a young, inattentive mother bird and an opportunistic predator.  This time would be different.  We now have four new avian denizens to add to our backyard census of finches, hummingbirds, chickadees, woodpeckers, catbirds.  Their parents are extremely attentive, tirelessly returning to the nest in turn with scrumptious goodies for those demanding open beaks.
  












Mama tidies up the nest frequently since like kids everywhere those little ones make quite a mess. They don't seem to mind our proximity but woe to the squirrel that ventures too close.  They swoop in on him and peck at him mercilessly until he is out of the yard. Even the poor, hapless catbird cannot escape their wrath.  He sneaks in to grab a little suet and they are on him like white on rice.  Poor guy just can't catch a break.  Meanwhile,  the search for food is relentless.  



We watched as Papa Robin was engaged in a tug of war with an earthworm who decided it didn't want to be on the menu.  He won...or at least part of him did.  Lucky for him that earthworms can regenerate since  quite a few of his segments went to feed those growing babies.  The nest is becoming tight quarters for those four rambunctious young 'uns.  There has been a noticeable increase in flapping and jostling.  I can almost hear them complaining in baby bird language "He's touching me." "Move over." "This is MY part of the nest." "Hey, you're stepping on me!"  It will soon be time to head for the lawn and then the real fun begins.  Papa will stick around and teach them how to do their own grocery shopping and ward off danger until they can fly. Mama will head off to build another nest and get another brood going. (She could probably use a spa vacation in the meantime but that will have to wait.)  We have felt so honored to be able to watch one of nature's true miracles.

We finally have a vegetable garden again after a two year hiatus.  It is securely fenced in to guard against the squirrel "all you can eat buffet" which has plagued our efforts in recent years.  



Zucchini are flowering, Peppers are growing, Tomatoes are making slow progress and cucumbers are sending off their climbers.
  



No garlic this year since Brendan wasn't able to secure any last fall but he has more than made up for it this year.  In the early fall a delivery will come that may end up taking over my entire veggie garden area.  It could be a standoff in the making but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

The annuals and perennials are having a good summer.  The echinacea, bee balm, phlox and Joe Pye weed are thriving which will hopefully draw more butterflies and hummingbirds to the yard, much to my delight. The petunias near the back door are blooming  and expanding, and we even have a surprise stand of daisies at the bottom of our porch steps.


The last three months have been some of the hardest of my life, for sure.  Dealing with the aftermath of breast cancer and being separated from friends and family have been surreal and disheartening.  I especially miss seeing my ten month old grandson and watching his milestones.  I am genuinely afraid that he will not recognize me when I do get to see him.  The chance to be his GeMa and share special moments is out of grasp and it breaks my heart.  But I know I am not alone.  So many families are separated and grieving their lack of contact.  And many are grieving much worse. Our mantra has become "This too shall pass."

In the meantime, we must let Mother Nature become our comfort.  She is certainly doing her best this year.

Stay safe and, for all of our sake's, PLEASE wear your masks!



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