Mid-Summer

July 12, 2026

July 8, 2026

Somehow, though it hardly seems possible, we have arrived and passed the midpoint of the year. We’ve been lucky here so far; the mornings have not been too hot, and breezes have accompanied the warmest mornings. We are wetter than usual, and I have walked in the rain more days than seems “normal.” Is there even a “normal” anymore?

The rain has made for some blessedly cool morning walks, and sometimes there’s a giant bird soaring in on the clouds.

The wild areas are lush, and the grasses are so high it’s sometimes hard to see the butterflies, dragonflies, and wildflowers. Usually, this time of year they are all dying in the heat. I don’t know if I remember it being this green in July.

The little hispid cotton rats like the thick vegetation! Usually, I see them from a distance as they scurry into the brush, but this one let me take his photo!

Sunrise has inched back, now ten minutes later than a couple of weeks ago. I can see the colors of first light and last light again, even if it’s still through my window as I wake up or go to sleep.

Fortunately, the hummingbirds sometimes come see me a bit later in the morning and I have a tiny bit of shade on my deck.

It feels good to know that soon, really soon, I will see the stars and the moon again. I miss Venus, Jupiter, and Orion, my faithful companions in the sky. I know they are there, but I like a friend you have only chatted with for far too long, it is heart-filling to see them in person.

Robins are also faithful companions, all year long.

Soon I will be able to capture the pollinators and bug-eaters in the softer light of morning with dew drops on their wings.

A bee on milkweed. The milkweed is doing well this year!

My neighborhood park has a wider selection of dragonflies, wildflowers, and butterflies than the park around the lake has right now. The parks department insists on mowing big open fields rather than letting them grow wild, and I sometimes have to wait until fall to catch more wildness there.

My neighborhood still has the habitat for the blue grosbeak, which I have never seen at the lake.

There are two big areas adjacent to my neighborhood that many of my neighbors refer to as “eyesores” or “empty lots”, areas that will someday be houses, apartments, or other developments. There are often calls to have someone mow them. To my eyes, they are small pieces of wilderness with abundant life. I always hope the calls to mow them go unheeded, and they stay unbuilt as long as possible.

The “empty lots” still have the habitat for field sparrows too!

Walking in the neighborhood, I get to catch up with the neighbors I only see this time of year. The walkers, dog companions, and those sipping coffee on their front porch are all trying to beat the heat. It is lovely to connect with them.

Eastern amberwing with the big red eyes. Every time I see dragonfly eyes, I think, “the better to eat you with, my dear.”

I’ve started a practice of taking a short walk after dinner, despite the heat at that time. I always thought it was “too hot” for me, but it turns out my body really appreciates a slow, short walk outside to end the day. I’m meeting a whole different set of neighbors at that time too!

I see more butterflies at the end of the day too! (black swallowtail)

Despite the mowing, the lake offers a few advantages on hot mornings - it is typically several degrees cooler there this time of year. Even though it’s a small lake, there is enough evaporative cooling and “lake breeze effect” to make a huge difference. It is wide open rather than enclosed, and I can feel the difference being fully surrounded by nature makes.

Cool air rises from the lake, creating “clouds” that are nowhere else to be seen.

At the lake, I can listen to the meadowlarks sing, the killdeer scream, and watch the swallows and purple martins swooping over the fields. The turkey vultures circle above, and the ever-present crows entertain my ears.

I do love hearing the meadowlarks sing!

Walkers, dog companions, joggers, and bike riders abound at the lake too, more people than I see much of the year. It’s equally nice to catch up with the two-legged friends I’ve made there.

Eastern kingbirds hunt for bugs in both locations.

Still, I patiently but eagerly wait for the time the summer folks disappear, and the migrating birds return. Every season has its gifts. Every season has its challenges. Isn’t this the truth of life?

Found this first-year orchard oriole at the lake.

This year, I am keeping up my turtle ways and practicing the art of not-hurrying. I take my time and give my body what it needs before I head out the door, even though it means missing the sunrise. I feel the difference if I rush or hurry - my body interprets this as a danger signal.

Many more turtles at the lake!

I’m not going to lie, this change affects everything in my day from washing the dishes to eating to the way I walk, talk, and even write. The old pathways are still strong, and it is easy to fall into rushing. My brain often says, “But there is so much to do!” Slowly, though, I’m learning how much better I feel when I take my time.

Swifts and swallows are done nesting, and many like to swoop over the lake like this cliff swallow.

The tension patterns and their related symptoms in my body are getting better, even if my body isn’t quite sure it trusts me yet. That’s fair. Trust in a relationship is not built in a moment or with intention alone; it is built with consistent action day after day.

Widow skimmer with shimmery wings.

I thought I had to soften my body, but it turns out I needed to slow down and let it soften. My body knew the way; I had to learn to follow. The most surprising thing is that I never needed to try so hard to find the way home. When I slow down, I discover I am already there.

My prothonotary warbler friend is done nesting too; I wonder what feels like “home” to him now?

Speaking of home, Julia Fehrenbacher’s new book, “This Too: Words to Walk You Home” arrived today! You can get a signed copy on her ETSY shop at this link. Here are the words from the first page I opened to:

“Look darling, the sun has risen again today, have you considered the wonder of this entirely beautiful thing?”

Black saddlebags dragonflies don’t seem to land often, so it’s exciting when one poses!

May each walk you take be a homecoming.

I haven’t forgotten about my commitment to create a birdsong download for all of you! My body has needed me to spend less time online, but I will get this done soon!