I was very fortunate to be at Como Park the other evening. It had been a beautiful day and many people were enjoying the evening and the park. There were people walking, biking, running, flying kites, setting up hammocks between trees, picnicking, and taking in all that our urban park offers, including a recent high school graduate celebrating his accomplishment. The sun was fighting through the hazy clouds on the western horizon, but it threw a lovely light on the waterfall on the right side of the Frog Pond. And that same light was streaming through the glass of the Marjorie McNeely Conservatory. How lucky I was to be there at this very moment.
summer
The beauty of Kansas and the midwest
We traveled south last week for a visit with family in Kansas. Our route took us off the interstate and along two lane highways and county roads. It was relaxing and much more interesting than the speed-view when traveling at 70+ miles per hour. We stopped at small city parks and explored fields of corn and soybeans. The temperatures were still summer-like but the days are certainly shorter. The sunsets were beautiful like this one – fields of flowers and a ball of fire going down over the horizon but still giving its glow and colors to the clouds above. The field was full of dragonflies and grasshoppers, all in a feeding frenzy before fall and winter’s arrival. It was a wonderful trip — not just for the scenery but more importantly for the time spent with family.
Early signs of fall
The nights have a bit of coolness to them now, and the sunshine isn’t quite as hot as it was earlier this month. Our daylight is becoming noticeably shorter as we move closer to fall. The skies are filled with Canada geese flying over, strengthening the wings of the young ones as they prepare for migrating south; their honking fills the air. I noticed these sedum blossoms the other day with spots of color in them. They too are responding to the fast approaching change in the seasons.
The busyness of a hummingbird
I watched in amazement at this tiny hummingbird as he flitted among the bee balm blossoms in the yard. He would work all around the edges of one flower, fly off to an adjacent flower and do the same, then to another and another. After about a minute he would land on a nearby branch and rest. And then he’d repeat the same thing all over again, sometimes moving to a blooming hosta and then back to the bee balm, or sometimes to a clump of catmint nearby, and retreating back to the bee balm. It was a treat to observe and marvel at something so very small with all this energy.
A field of summer
It’s a true summer’s day – blue sky above with white patchy clouds, and the sun is beating down with its warmth. We are driving along some county roads in northern Wisconsin. We’ve passed fields of green soybeans and acres of corn, all thriving in spite of the late planting season and the copious amounts of rain this year. But up ahead is a bright and welcome sight — at an intersection there is a sea of yellow on one side of the road. It stretches off to the trees in the distance, and it is a glorious field of sunflowers. Faces to the east, backlit by the sun, the large blossoms are nodding in the wind. To me this is the epitome of summer, and I’ll soak it in to remember during the not-so-summery days that lie ahead.
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