Being impulsive, I decided to be done with the whole thing, to cut down the apple tree and to dig up the rose mallow, to simply forget about inconstant blossoms and not obsess over stuttering growth.
After the Summer Solstice, waiting for us just around the next bend in time’s progress, the shadow will begin its drift back toward me, slowly demonstrating the diminishing light and the shortening days.
I knew temperatures would only be in the 50s for most of the day so that would necessitate more time needed to cook this bad boy to an internal temperature of 200F.
I aimed the cold-water spray through the trellis wire to the outer row, swinging the hose slowly, deliberately. Into the midst of my concentration on the task, a ruby-throated hummingbird flew, suspending its colorful little body in the spray I was creating.