The solstice is still three weeks away, but summer is here, nonetheless. I like to hold onto this season for as long as possible. For me, it’s here by Memorial Day, and I let it linger until its proper end at the September equinox.
The peonies are nearly spent, and the irises have lost their blooms. Now is when hothouse-born annuals can safely sing their melodies that will be encored ceaselessly until frost silences them in the fall.
Trees and bushes are still flowering. I noticed that dogwood and spirea are in bloom. Milkweed plants are fat with buds which will host a smorgasboard for butterflies near the end of the month.
Smorgasbord . . . this term has grown archaic, hasn’t it? It brings to mind a bizarre Jerry Lewis movie called Cracking Up, wherein he plays a character who tries therapeutic hypnosis. Hearing his trigger word (which happens to be smorgasbord) has unpredictable results. The guy who played Stan on The Golden Girls is his therapist in the movie. This reminds that I should watch that movie again sometime.