I stood outside on my deck and looked up, at the slow moving marshmallow white clouds.
Last night’s rain plummeted the house. Today’s blue sky is as loud as last nights thunder.
I could see the dog’s food bowl overflowing with rain water. I had left it on the grill last night trying to avoid the cloud of attacking mosquitoes.
Water shimmered in the hot, bright sunshine. While piles of grass, freshly cut the night before, laid grey-green and soggy. Surprisingly the air wasn’t humid as it was yesterday; at least it didn’t feel humid to me.
I could see water from the back drainage ditch had inched its way out of the Bog Willows and making an attempt to swamp the small shed.
Hampshire was still in the middle of a heat wave. Above the shed door, the temperature gage registered one hundred and ten degrees.
After a few minutes of admiring the day, the sun started to burn my skin.
A faint waft of manure drifted over the corn fields and circled around me, I glanced to make sure I had closed the door.
Toads, cicadas and birds sang in the hot, hot summer afternoon.
This is one of those days were you really don’t want to move, just sit around and sip iced tea and frozen lemonade and eat ice cream and watermelon.
Speaking of watermelons…
I tried to spot the watermelon growing along the edge of the garden. I shook my head, annoyed, when I saw that a rodent had the same idea and munched on it early this morning. Little, gnawed pieces were scattered on the bricks. I had hoped that the silence from the rat family meant they gone.
Normally I don’t care if I sound like an idiot. But, standing out in the yard and arguing with a little country rat as it squeaks back, with irritation at the stupid human, is taking it a little far off the loopy map. Even for me.
For a few more minutes, standing still, I watch as a wasp hovers, then slips inside the dog/cat house a few feet away from me on the deck.
When I first moved to Hampshire, I called an exterminator about the paper wasps that build nest under my eves. I was told with a laugh. “Those are just paper wasps! Leave them alone, unless they try to come into your house. Then, give me a call back.”
I learned that living out in the middle of farmland, some thing’s need to be ignored.
At that moment, I saw a flash of reddish fur and a small nose poke up past the large zucchini leaves. Dark eyes stared at me, and a chatter of squeaks continued for a full minute.
I let her have her say, and then I tossed a stick in her direction.
Not to be detoured, she reached up and grabbed a red cherry tomato, lashed out one more squeak in my direction, then disappeared with her prize.
Marlowe’s Ace Hardware