Cool and crystal-clear. A wood thrush sings as if it’s still nesting season. The western ridge turns red.
Friday July 29, 2022
Bleary sun. Tree leaves are all astir, but not by much. Those birds who still sing make it sound perfunctory.
Thursday July 28, 2022
Cool, overcast, and humid. A breeze brings the smell of ozone and a hush of rain finishing its journey down from the trees.
Wednesday July 27, 2022
Sun rising into clouds. The mob of wild garlic heads in the meadow are beginning to shed their white hoods.
Tuesday July 26, 2022
It’s actually cold—54F/12C! A crow at the top of the tallest locust where the sun strikes has one thing to say and she is saying it.
Monday July 25, 2022
The sky never gets fully light before thunder starts to rumble. Now it’s getting dark again. The birds fall silent.
Sunday July 24, 2022
Hazy but not yet hot. Hummingbirds circle the soapwort patch, as if following the red threads of bindweed.
Saturday July 23, 2022
Every time I look up from my book, more sunlight has infiltrated the forest like bright rungs of a ladder. A raven clears its throat.
Friday July 22, 2022
Chimney swifts circle high overhead as the last bats head home. The sun rising through small clouds is crowned by dark spokes.
Thursday July 21, 2022
A few minutes before sunrise. Goldfinch chatter. A half-slice of moon hangs in the east like an icon of wintry cool.
Wednesday July 20, 2022
Cool at sunrise with a restless breeze. The big tulip tree at the woods’ edge drops a few more drought-yellowed leaves.
Monday July 18, 2022
Fifteen hours of off-and-on rain and everything looks greener. The big red maple that just finished dying sheds a chunk of rotten wood.
Sunday July 17, 2022
Another phantom shower, existing only on the weather app. A firefly wanders past, looking for a walnut leaf to spend the day under.
Saturday July 16, 2022
Heavily overcast; on the weather app, it’s raining. The sky lightens; on the weather app, bright sunshine. From Mom’s house, the measured tones of Morning Edition.