Summer In The South consists of fireflies darting through the lush forests at dusk; of air so humid it appears cloudlike in the heat and you can see what you are breathing. There is a pervasive silence as the woods breathlessly await any passing gentle breeze for relief. Even squirrels have better sense than the lazy bumblebees out making their living lethargically moving from flower to flower.
Begonias line my entry walk, thriving as usual, before the lavender Hostas and bright Day Lilies. They all think they live in a greenhouse. Canopy is the truly right description of the trees. I look up through the lacy leaves to see the sky, grateful for the gentle filter of the heat. My little Garden of Eden.
The cicadas (also known as katydids) have at last begun their nightly chant, somehow relating that all is right with the world. And the full golden moon now begins its helium ascent at 9:28 p.m.
Are you sure this is timely? I understand y'all were still having snow up that way!
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