A Mid-Summer Night's Eve

It's been raining a lot here lately. In fact, it rained on and off for most of this day. I didn't get to spend any time in the yard with our hummingbirds until an evening break in the rain. The light was fading into dusk but it was too early yet for the moon.

I was trying to get a few last shots before all of my light left the backyard, when I happened across several echinacea at the edge of the meadow. I shot them several different ways, but in the end this was my favorite view, with the one perfectly shaped bloom looking like a windmill against the blue-gray evening sky.

It reminded me of those long summer days when I was a little girl. In the summertime, my brother and sisters and I spent a lot of time outdoors playing with our cousins. We played baseball in the field above our house. We slopped in the spring drain behind our house and built little boats and had boat races. We built forts. We went for long walks and bike rides. We waded in Lost Creek.

We squoze every single minute out of every single summer day, sometimes playing so long we were finally summoned home by the sound of my mother ringing the cowbell she kept by the front door for just that purpose. Oh yes, we'd play until the very last bit of light was leaving us, and we would finally give up on our games and run through the woods in the encroaching darkness, heading for home.

The song to accompany this peaceful backyard scene is a tune about summer: Bryan Adams, an unplugged version of Summer of 69.