Tag Archives: June

This June’s Bipolar Nature

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This June’s Bipolar Nature

What magnificent spring weather we have relished in these past three months in Missouri. In my recollection it has been many years since we have experienced three full months of spring. Typically, in these parts of Missouri, it is a long winter with a rushed four weeks of spring, then right into the heat of summer. According to the weather forecasters, that heat of the summer comes this weekend. With this true spring has come thunderstorms and tornadoes. The weather has a bipolar nature. The damaging winds wreaked havoc in the St. Louis area more than once. The city has not seen such devastation in over 50 years. Recovery is day by day.

Dean and I have a huge, 50 – 60-year-old tulip poplar tree in our backyard which became victim to a pop-up thunderstorm a couple of evenings ago. It lost three medium to big-sized branches which landed between our house and the neighbor church building. Believe me, there are plenty of other branches for its survival. Today, I spent about an hour picking up small branches in the backyard and found a few in the front yard. My injured back only allows so much bending over, and it starts talking to me. I stopped before it started screaming at me. Dean has his various sized saws in use, binding up the large branches cut to 5-foot length as required by our trash company, and the smaller branches going in our lawn refuse totes and lawn bags.

A June respite comes with the mild temperature days. Some resting, meditating, reading, and writing this month. I have to thank God we are safe after each storm. Damaging gutters and roofs can be fixed and clean-up long, but Dean and I are safe and are generally in good health. I facilitated a writers’ workshop in Clarksville, Tennessee earlier this month. The six ladies gleaned much from this workshop where my co-facilitator and I emphasized the importance of observing with all seven senses. Yes, there are seven senses identified now. The traditional five are sight, smell, taste, hearing, touch. The two others are vestibular, associated with movement and balance, and proprioception allows a person to associate one’s own body with space. These last two are related to touch. I will mention there is a spiritual sense, which would make eight senses total for those who are believers.

“A comfortable breezy June morning … The clover is now in its glory. Whole fields are rosed with it, mixed with sorrel, and looking deeper than it is. It makes fields look luxuriant which are really thinly clad. The air is full of its sweet fragrance… These are the clover days.” Henry Thoreau

Thoreau wrote several lines in his journal on June 19, 1852, mentioning many other types of vegetation such as the crops of corn and potatoes, berries on the vines with anticipation of their ripening, even mildew and fungus he writes about. Several birds are included in his journal. He doesn’t miss any of the details and uses all his senses in his writings. Midway in this journal entry Thoreau mentions clover in three sentences and concludes with “the clover days” of June.  I have seen clover growing prolifically this month. The honeybees love clover, which makes for healthy gardens. The bees will come if the chemicals are not used. Folks, keep it organic like in Thoreau’s time. Keep all those senses stimulated. And journal your experiences.

Midsummer’s Blooms

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The summer drives have revealed old-fashion multi-flora roses, Queen Anne’s lace, Indian paintbrush, coneflowers, clover, black-eye Susan’s, buttercups, straw flowers, lilies, and cattails along the country roadsides. The town blocks are lined with blooming hydrangeas, crepe myrtle, roses, Shasta daisies, lavender, and tiger lilies with pots of geraniums, petunias, lantana, bridal veil, impatiens, and culinary herbs besides. This week oregano and Italian basil dazzled my white pasta sauce and thyme, mint, marjoram, and lemon basil spiced up the brown rice dish. Meanwhile, lawn sprinklers water as the rains have been scarce in June. My aubade to this Midsummer …

My Aubade This Midsummer

The summer solstice is June twenty-one,

direct opposite of the Midnight sun.

At nine fifty-seven am central time this year,

an ephemeral moment in this celestial sphere.

A spectacular morning this Midsummer,

as swollen rain clouds promise like a redeemer.

The feathered friends’ frenzy at the birdfeeders,

nature’s behavior encourages this pleader.

Blooms and greens need raindrops ten thousand,

allowing all five senses to be arousing.

Especially in gardening, patience is a virtue.

The garden hose is out to water those plants, quite a few.

The flowers’ colors and fragrances are a seduction,

and those clouds escaped again without a production.

Too dry before July and August’s usual drought,

more prayers will surely open the heavens, rain showers to come about.

Anna Marie Gall ~ June 21, 2023

June Bugs

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This June the Japanese beetles made their way to our yard.  (They are not really June bugs, but they arrive in June in my world.)  And of course, we have much for them to munch on as our greenhouse is still in reconstruction.   These shiny metallic looking green bugs seem to love our basil, and tasted the hydrangeas,  geraniums, and hibiscus.   We are thankful as the plants’ temporary home, our green screen house seems to capture the little critters.  And while they mate on the screen, we capture them into jars that become their coffins.  Dean & I seem to have conquered this bug invasion, but are on guard everyday, morning and night for the next  couple of weeks.   Beware!