Since the return from north of the border, life here's been packed. Not packed in a city way. Low-key, but going from morning to evening.
Have been taking the first steps to convert land along the sunny side of the house from a formless, weed-dominated, small-scale Bermuda Triangle (things disappear into it) into what I hope will be a garden. Pulling up overgrown undergrowth, dumping compost and peat into the soil, planting stuff to finish out this season -- flahrs mostly. Annuals, the kind of greenery that will croak when the cold season rolls around, leaving a brand new plot to slave and toil away at next year. Found a local high school girl who's hiring herself out for work like this -- a genuine sweetheart -- she's come out here the last two Monday mornings. After she bolted this last Monday, I spent the balance of the day laboring away solo -- more with the digging, etc, followed by a bout of lawn mowing. By the time I'd given up for the day, the sky had darkened, rain began coming down. Lightly at first, until the drops turned fat and heavy. A few minutes of that, then the clouds opened up, some serious wind got blowing. I'd retreated inside, begun washing off the day's layer of dust and topsoil that had accumulated on my bod, when I heard clattering. Took a look outside, saw marble-sized hail bouncing off everything. Three or four minutes later, the storm turned back to simple wind/rain, that continued for a while. Then it all moved on, clouds gradually giving way to sunshine, late afternoon turning to evening.
And it's August. The culmination of June and July -- flowers everywhere, crickets and their cousins in the grass making music 24 hours a day, cicadas keening from the treetops. The birdsong that filled the air here from dawn to nightfall has quieted down, a sign that southern migration has begun -- the thrush that sang in the woods across the road has moved on, several different kinds of birds that summered over in the windbreak at the near end of the house are gone. Hummingbirds are still making appearances at the feeder, but will likely be out of here soon. Even the robins have begun slipping away. (Sniffle.) I've spotted the occasional praying mantis hanging about, however, which gets me all excited. (Glad you don't live with me, aren't you?)
The evenings are coming on earlier now, the days clearly moving in the direction of autumn. Boggles my teeny mind how quickly it all passes.
Went into town a couple of evenings back to join a packed house viewing Ladies in Lavender. Nice to see that kind of turnout for that kind of film.
And the movie? Well... nice. A nice story, nicely told. Nice seaside scenery, nice music, blah blah blah. But no big deal, really. (Probably a low-budget affair -- how else to explain the boom mike that intrudes above the actors over and over again throughout the film? Someone needs to be given a serious beating for allowing that.) There are two good reasons to see it, however: Judi Dench and Maggie Smith. All by themselves they make it worthwhile.
Right. Enough with the blabbering. On to the day.
Beware: more on Montréal will follow.
Northern Vermont, storms coming and going:
Madrid, te echo de menos.
rws 11:12 AM [+]
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