Two nights ago, I looked out the kitchen window after dinner and saw a mighty churning in our shallow pond. I wish I had gone down to take a closer look; I thought it must have been a fish hatching or a communal muskrat bath. The next day a group of wind born white flags arrived.
The glee that one or two egrets on the pond brings, becomes sheer giddiness over this group of dinner guests.
While photographing around the pond this Summer, I often feel I am living inside a Monet painting. There is no bridge of distinction,
but there is a weeping willow and a row boat, and life teems all around.
The light on the water is endlessly fascinating, and I am thankful to the egrets for bringing me close to the waters edge.
In the garden, the daylilies are waning, but the phlox scent the air and bloom profusely.
Clementine waits by husbands weeding pad for an afternoon of light tromping through the borders; she loves the rich hunting ground along the fence.
From the small joy of a caterpillar on dill
to the dazzle of a dahlia that defied the appetite of a ground hog,
to the magnificent sight of white egrets landing in trees,
I am thankful for Summers offerings.