Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
Storm eyeballed a gray squirrel in the neighbor's yard as we set out. But the meathead didn't give chase. It's too much like summer.
Mourning doves cooed on all sides on a morning where the sky was clear but the air hung summer thick.
Not as many robins around this morning this morning working yards. Maybe all those days of rain had them filled with worms.
A belted kingfisher squawked from the north old clay pit. I could clearly hear it, but couldn't find it in the thick foliage.
A mass of Canada geese clustered in the middle of the north pit. I am still amazed how quickly the goslings grow.
Storm is definitely in his summer mode. He has been enjoying daily swims as we swing around the south pit.
On Monday, my wife and I did a wildflower hike with Jean Hurrle at the Aroma Land and Water Preserve.
So this morning, I was able to pick out sweet cicely and the flowers of raspberries. The raspberry flowers just exploded in the last few days.
Honeysuckle, that invasive taking over the underbrush, on the other hand is on the downswing.
Some of the honeysuckle in more open areas have already dropped their flowers. Honeysuckle in the thickest woods are at that lushest stage, a riot of white and yellow right before dropping off.
Back in town, the bank clock read 71 degrees. Might have a few degrees warmer than actual air temperature with the sun already shining down, but not by much. Summer is here.
Blackbirds, doves and Stumpy, the neighborhood black squirrel with a battered partial tail, scattered from the neighbor's ground bird feeder as we neared home.