There were days

There were June days when dozens of butterflies dried newly unfolded wings in the garden sun, and on these days I didn't water at all for fear of moving the fluttery flock. 

Laura sat between raised beds in stunned silence for hours, and if you know the child, or maybe any inquisitive sparkly 4-year-old, you know this was a miracle of its own. The tomatoes and basil were witness to this birth of butterflies, as was Laura's oft-used bug box. When I told her she should not attempt to catch butterflies with her hands she opened the lid of her box in a bright spot, loaded it with a sprig of honeysuckle, and waited. 

And waited. Finally one cooperative yellow-winged creature visited the box. Laura was ready. We took pictures and then opened the lid again.

I don't think I've ever seen such a display of butterflies and dragonflies as we were blessed with here. And another week? A baby fawn at the edge of our pond:

 Whose mother was just over the fence, nose twitching. I have to tell you the story, because, well, I do. The engineer and I were at the table with his dad. The children were at the pond catching pollywogs, which is an entire month's worth of posts, when Grace and my niece Maiya discovered the sleeping baby. They ran in the house to report their discovery but I was not particularly impressed. In fact I stayed at the table drinking coffee while my husband trekked out there to see what I was sure would be a stump or twisted root.

O me of little faith.

In other news I am considering using chemical fertilizer. I think I do this every year about this time, when the fish fertilizer and compost wear me out and my garden is still not as green and gorgeous as the neighbors'. It's a constant flirtation with Miracle Gro, I'll tell ya.

The hummingbirds ran out of fruit blossoms at the end of June and fought over my one pitiful feeder.

The strawberries are ripening now -- finally -- mocking me with their "June" bearing and, worse, "ever" bearing variety names. We did enjoy homemade shortcake with our own strawberries and whipped cream just this week. On the back deck with sounds of the stream and baby swallows.

Salvador turns 2 tomorrow.

There were days this month when I was sure I wouldn't make it through, when I doubted my preparation, my ability to persevere. Day camp deliveries and pick ups, business meetings and garden maintenance. Five dentist appointments in one afternoon. Recitals and graduations and crises, a sick lamb and sleepless nights holding her upright. I wanted to run away to the coast, I wanted to run away to the mountains. I wanted to run away to my glamper in the woods at the edge of the back pasture.


So instead I stuck with it. I pretended I was landing a difficult dismount off the end of the balance beam and I just stuck.


Looking back, despite the days, I loved June. And I'm betting July will be loved as well. Day after day.