With week-old mosquito bites itching on my back, and the wall clock ticking its inexorable way to Saturday, I sit in the sun room watching the clouds gather over The Field.
I've heard that there is a full moon tonight, this Friday the thirteenth. A fairly rare occurrence by all accounts. I don't think it will be visible here... nope. Had to go and check. The moon is hiding its face. The part of me that doesn't want to weed the garden tomorrow is hoping that those clouds are full of rain so I can avoid that chore with a clear conscience.
I'm having a hard time "getting into" June. I mean, it's half over, so I'm into it, but I'm not "into" it, if you know what I mean. It took so long for spring to come that even now I only half believe that winter is really over, and if I start counting how long we have before autumn can be expected, well, it's just downright depressing.
Summer in The Field.
It IS summer in The Field, isn't it? Felt like we had summer a couple of weeks back, but now it has moved on to a kind of indeterminate season of cool nights and gray, threatening days with the odd burst of sunshine, heat and birdsong.
Ah, well. If this IS summer, I'd best start enjoying it, because it will well and truly be gone far too soon. Maybe if I envision the next inevitable long, cold, snowy winter for a few minutes it will give me the motivation I need to get out there and seize the season.
Let's give it until July, shall we? If things haven't shaped up by then we can look into a tropical vacation or a hot tub.