Shouldn't…but Do

Montgolfier is full these days.  Named for its resemblance in full leaf to a globe aérostatique-style hot air balloon, the tree rises considerably above this two-story house.  When I first met it, it was a broken four foot stick in the ground that provoked thoughts of quick firewood rather than any future grandeur. Tending and time have lent it vigor, an almost impenetrable green depth, and an easy, safe haven for the generations of birds who have called it home.

Off the back deck, a garden flag bedecked with painted zinnia flowers flutters ever so gently in a slight evening breeze. A new garden spinner with young colors spins quietly as the sun sets.

I spent time in the garden today, not a lot, but some.  Nudged out of the front garden – which needs a lot of work – by a neighbor’s seeming mid-life moment.  How do I know?  Male, mid-fifties, overloud tunes overwhelming the driveway and street, predominantly boozy guitar chords and licks of Nugent’s “Stranglehold” are a dead giveaway.

Up the street, same thing on a nightly basis with a different play list. Easy to gauge mood there.  Creedence on the upswing, Pink Floyd on the down. No judgment, just annoyance that these moments must be attended by the rest of the neighborhood, children, couples, dogs, grandparents, trees, and breeze, when a moderate volume would be fine for personal use.

Summer solstice has passed. The sun and the trees are as full as they are going to be. Today hummingbirds, a monarch butterfly, and even a monarch caterpillar graced the garden built here to provide them succor.

As the sun sets, the midlife woes have quieted along with the lawn equipment and power tools of home-improvement projects.  At past the height of the season the rain has been kind.  Green oasis of lawns encircle houses when hot, dry weather usually crisps things up by now.

The night songs of the tree frogs are giving away more quickly to the crickets.  A waxing moon is brilliant against a deep blue sky. The birds are slowing down now and soon, when the solar orb drops fully below the horizon, the bats will wing by to start their day.  In the distance the distinct chirp of a cardinal calls loudly of the coming nighttime.

The fireflies have not begun their twilight shows yet this year.  When they do, I’ll let you know.