An ode to August
of bergamot and late-blooming butterfly weed,
Mixed in were some yarrow and the earliest goldenrod,
a Solidago, but which species I don’t know.
Remembrance of grandma’s farm;
a reminder that summer is beginning to fade.
Butterfly wings laden with last night’s rain,
too heavy to fly yet today.
But with the promise of sun and 80 degrees,
a fulfilling nectar feast awaits.
The spider webs are not hidden today,
heavily outlined by pearls of dew.
The bees were already starting their work of the day.
My retriever is happy to chase the scents,
some from new colonies of baby rabbits.
Is this batch number 2 or 3 this season?
Last year there were fewer, but more groundhogs.
Brood #2 of the barn swallows greeted me this morning
from their nests on our barn beams.
Parents return from the fog with food.
It is quite lush and green for this late in the summer,
a sign of lots of rain.
Lots of insects for the birds and bats,
the tick numbers are temporarily down.
I enjoy the quiet solitude, but can’t help but think
that soon, like the birds that will be heading south,
my oldest son will migrate to college.