17 August 2023

Where Does The Summer Go?

17 August 2023
C. S. Sherin

Every once in a while, a poem comes racing out of me, and it spills out and finds its way to my blog, here. Today is one of those days....

Summer 2023, C. S. Sherin

Where Does
The Summer go?
        by C. S. Sherin
Will it ever, please, ever-nestle
in the heart,
and release its balmy winds upon
my being at all
the most-needed times?
At the end of summer,
I have only begun to remember
how to lie down upon beach towels
or generous blankets in the yard
and be, be, be...with
sweet dogs at my side...
with love and lover enfolding me...
with children causing happy ruckus next door,
with brilliant cats, and so many directions for
walking, and
with a new, fresh butterfly gliding about
looking for a patch of sun,
the right patch of sun, to rest within.
Stolen moments...they cannot be so.
And better late than never!
Better to taste the nectar of life
long and sweetly now.
Better to recline in the value of the
freedom to exist with peace and pleasure.
Freedom ever-present claimed.
Rest claimed.
Sunlight and gentle breezes grow strong.
Creativity claimed.
Health and movement.
Sweat forms and drips freely.
Sunlight and shade dance in the winds
where green vines cocoon us,
a secret garden of our own.
We can play there
hearts ever-young,
minds ready to live life anew.
Where does the summer go
when heat drives us inside, and work
never releases, nor does the striving?
Where does the summer go
as we age into a new existence
and stress-forget the freedoms ever-present?
How old were you when everything burned?
I was three. I was seven.
And other times too. Too many.
May summer, may spring, may fall
continually live within, at the most-needed times. May winter be gentle.
May winter never linger so long.
May there never be a time again
when everything burns and no peace is discovered.
I know the way.
It is the wisdom of a child.
It is the playful inspiration
of a loving grandparent, aunt, or uncle.
It is choice in how to rest. It is choice in solitude.
It is the joy and wonder of tiny things.
It is in actively seeking delight
in the midst of everything.
Too late in the summer, I find it.

C. S. Sherin ©2023, all rights reserved.

09 August 2023

Garden Ramblings During Drought

C. S. Sherin
09 August 2023
updated on Aug 10/11 at the end of this post

The geranium stretched out a long arm to offer some more generous blooms today.

 

To the south of us, in the state of Wisconsin, the land is experiencing severe to extreme drought.  

Here, in west-central Wisconsin we are having a moderate drought. We started out in the Spring with flooding. And throughout the summer we've had drought conditions, with some luck of a few soaking rains. But, not enough. For an area that is usually lush long into August, even September, this extended drought experience is leaving its mark. 

A lot of acorn trees have tiny, tiny acorns. Many flower blooms came in one or two times smaller than normal. Tall plants didn't grow quite as tall, and others became miniature. That includes small patches of clover that somehow survived, and many plants considered hardy perennials. I watered regularly for so long. But, have fallen behind. And it shows. The garden has died away and given up in many parts. It feels like October in August. I have already pulled the hollow, dried stems from the tall, cheerful tiger lilies, which peak in early to mid July. 

all the dried tiger lily stems I pulled yesterday.

 

The grass is crispy or died away. Even the catnip is fallen over, weak, though not wilted like the mint. The milkweed have some real nice big seed pods formed, but they, too, have fallen on hard times, with mites or aphids covering them. Though, that infestation has provided steady meals for the countless ants who have lived on this sandy, originally prairie, land for ages. 

I provide water for the insects, mammals and birds outside, but it's hard to keep up as it evaporates and is used so much faster. The water for insects is in a potted plant dish that has rocks in it to prevent drowning. It is the most active and needed water dish I have outside. If the plant life and soil is having a hard time, you can bet that the wildlife needs extra support. While natural selection is a thing, we actually don't want pollinators and other important or unique species suffering too much. That's for sure.

We have had droughts each year for quite a long time now, but not usually for this long in a season. It's difficult to see, in many ways. And, I feel good being able to provide water for the plants and in water dishes. It is a big deal. When I do water in the evenings, the bees are still trying to get all they can from the blooms that are left. (Same with hummingbirds, few butterflies, pollinating wasps or hornets, and birds...but bees are out later.) Well, those bees would get out of my way and gently fly around me, respectfully. It was clear to me, these bees know that I have been working to keep the flowers alive for them. So, we cooperate. Best we can. And I can tell you, there is nothing they love more in our yard than the Greek oregano in bloom. They can't get enough! 

the Greek oregano is in the background, while the bee is visiting flowers that are quite hardy to this drought and that the finches seem to like as well.


As I was pulling the dried, hollow stems from the lilies yesterday, I remembered how recent it was that they were like a fireworks display in my yard around my birthday. And how exciting and fun it was to see them. All memory now... and faded fast to drought. The thirst in the soil is profound. The amount of days we go without soaking rains is sobering. Even the ants kept wandering into our house this summer looking for foods.

Watering the yard and providing water costs next to nothing here. But, I let my practice slide, because the forecast kept promising rain, and it kept missing us, and I was distracted. So, things are thirstier and more crispy than before. I am lamenting this lapse a little bit.

Sometimes I can revive the mint with a long soaking. But, sometimes, like now, I may have missed the chance. I hope not. 

At our Riverside park, where there are usually many ducks and seagulls along the shoreline, there are none. The ducks are gone, I guess? And the seagulls are few. Perhaps because of the construction still on pause for the new huge docking portion of the shore, for the real big river cruise ships? Not sure. I just know it was eerie to see the park so crispy dry, the water so low, and many regular wildlife absent. 

the ants feasting on the mites or aphids that have infested the milkweed.

 

The most curious thing of all, is that mold is still forming on the greenery, out back, where I don't water at all. How does that happen? August is the season for mold, true. Perhaps the high heat with humidity does the trick, even without enough rain? 

I still hope we get some good rains. Everyone living on the land needs the relief. So much of what is alive out there isn't made for long-term droughts. It would be sad to see this continue or worsen each year. Even with a garden hose and attachments, it isn't easy. For grassroots homestead-type farmers this summer, I'm sure it has been non-stop work, more than ever. I know for myself, due to the severity of the drought at certain times, I didn't care about weeding as much as keeping things alive...simply encouraging survival. It may seem silly to go this in-depth. But, it really affects everything and all of us. The raspberries didn't grow, by the way. They tried to grow, shrunk and wilted. Foods and herbs did according to the moisture provided. 

Sometimes the circumstances and conditions don't line up, and then things that would normally thrive are held back and are forced to diminish. 

UPDATE, 10 August 2023: Last night after this was posted, we got a little rain storm. It wasn't long enough to make up for a lot. But, it felt like a lovely answer to this post. And every little bit counts!

11 August 2023: We got rain again last night, and may get more tonight! While it won't likely make up the 3 inches of rain we haven't gotten this season, it's still good news! And, more good news, the mint did revive again, between me watering and the rain.