I tricked this poor lone rain lily into thinking it had rained and got it to bloom one more time for me, a fitting end to this summer of dryness.
"Summer, that year, ran through into winter without a break. No rain fell, lawns cracked and you could have swept the bed of the county brook with a broom. Never in living memory had there been such a summer." (Reginald Arkell in Old Herbaceous)
The weatherman informed us this morning that we could set a record today, the last full day of summer, with a predicted high temperature of 94F. The previous record was 93F.
He also informed us that summer officially ends tomorrow at 11:09 EDT.
Never has there been such a summer, at least one that I can recall. We've had dry summers, but not one that was quite like this one that started out so rainy in June.
I can also record that this summer, for the first time, I saw a fox in my garden. I went out to water last night and heard a crashing sound as the fox came out from beneath some shrubs and darted across the vegetable garden. I stood my ground and defended the patio.
Actually, I sort of froze on the patio and wondered if a fox would try to attack a person, like some kind of coyote or mountain lion might. I decided it wouldn't and tried to get a picture, but it darted off, and ran under the fence into the neighbor's yard and then presumably ran off across the street to the woods behind those neighbor's houses.
At least I hope that is what it did.
This is the first time that I've seen a fox in my garden, or even seen a fox in my neighborhood. What does it mean? Why was it there? What does it like about my garden?
Like every gardener, I want to create a garden that attracts pretty birds, buzzing bees, and maybe a passing bunny or two. But not foxes. Foxes, and raccoons, possums, chipmunks, squirrels and voles, don't fit into the idyllic image I have of my garden, unless they are cartoon like and don't eat any plants or destroy anything or leave any scat in the lawn.
After I saw the fox, I took a picture of my lawn.
|Fairy's view of dry lawn with locust tree sprouts.|
In a normal summer, these sprouts would be regularly mowed down, but not this summer.
Never has there been such a summer.
I'm ready for a cool, wet fall.