The dog days of summer…
It’s been hot. Too hot for black dogs.
So hot that shade is barely shade.
The snappers wind their way, prehistoric bodies smeared green with algae and lumbering from water to grass, grass to water.
There are surprises in the woods…..I recall someone who went mushroom hunting and ate those he found on a log, differentiated by those *next* to a log. Was it these that were poison or the others? Thinking you are right is not the same as being right. He could have said this as he recovered from his hospital bed.
…and more surprises in open spaces. The straw-coloured grasses sway in the shifting heat that at one moment is thick with moisture and then the next, light with hints of autumn.
The grasses and lily pads are choking the pond, making the ducks work extra hard to power through, bobbing for food and then relaxing on the logs that have been placed there for that very purpose.
The milkweed is ready. I cannot resist the urge to pull the silken stuffing from their pods and set each seed free by waving them over my head. Like nature’s bubble machine.