Our yard is at its peak of blooms and buds. The yellow roses have wilted, but the red and white ones are splashing colors shamelessly among daisies and brilliant red sweet peas, while some are climbing the trees and lilac bushes, reaching high, as if to call out, "notice me, notice me".
In the front yard the miniature rose bushes are heavy with red blossoms. They fill the window where our old cat loves to lie, enjoying the early morning sunlight. The bushes are so thick with flowers, they block some of the light, but cat is entertained by the fat bumblebees that dart among the blooms, landing when one catches their fancy.
In the garden the veggies are emerging in various stages. A green tomato or two are developing swiftly. Our bees are especially busy, flying in and out of the hive, laden with pollen and nectar. They are speedier than the bumbling bumblebees and harder to spot, except when they stop at the bee bath to take in water.
In the midst of all of this dazzling beauty, the baby birds are taking their first awkward flights, at times landing at my feet, blinking stupidly up at me while their frantic parents call from a nearby tree, "Watch out for that person! Fly away, fly away"! And of course, they do.
One robin is furiously pulling up dry grasses for a nest. Other robins were on that project weeks ago. Why is she so slow? Perhaps she is on a different time table. Perhaps her nest was destroyed. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.....
Is it any wonder that I love the month of June, so full of color and new life?
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