To say we’ve had a rainy summer is plain silly. It has been wet and gray, with bits of sunny days thrown in just to remind us of what is out there and what nice summers are like enough to not lose our minds while we watch our tomatoes barely ripen, our corn wither away before maturing, and our lawns continuously grow enough for a weekly mowing similar to May.
Yet, there are some bright spots out there, like our gold finches who come to feast on the heliopsis and purple cone flowers. It’s a wonderous sight for sore eyes when we grow used to cloudy day after cloudy day and POP! a flash of yellow appears to raise our spirits and lower our fears that doom and gloom is our permanent future.
But despite the unusual gray of our summer, there are endless reasons to be thankful. At Little Pond, our brook runs fresh as it did in July, a first in all our years living here. This refreshes the pond’s water and helps revitalize the ecosystem. The lack of sun also kept baking stagnation at bay. While many of us empty our basement hour after hour with shop vacs, or patch the roof of our house, or fix our washed out driveways, I consider those blessings of labor as reminders.
They are reminders that nature has the power, not us. Losing control is never an easy thing, or fun, for that matter. As we huddle up inside, Ma Nature makes the rules. It is with gratitude that I have a basement to empty, a driveway to fix that I use for my car, a home to seek refuge in. Though it is not fun, these small inconveniences are trivial in the grand scheme of things.
I think of my old peach tree I’ve written a post about before. Her fruit is ever so bright, yet hard as a rock. I don’t think they will sweeten enough to eat, yet how her peaches BLAZE! Every live branch carries fruit, perfectly round, each one like a miniature sunset.
No matter the wind, rain, and unusual cold of this summer, she lingers on.
In the last few days, our dam has endured a major beating. After waking up from hurricane rains, the true damage was unseen until daybreak, but the canyon-like driveway gave some indication that things were not okay.
A great town crew and a husband’s hard work made amazing fixes of a dangerous road and driveway wash out, to say the least.
But, the dam.
Our youngest said it best when she described that the hunk taken out of the dam was like looking at a giant piece of birthday cake with many layers and someone took a huge scoop right off the front. Yup, could not say it better.
We stood there, helpless. While about a third had washed away, the rest of the dam endured the biblical deluge the night before. And we knew in our hearts, only Nature could fix what Nature destroyed, not man.
So, we waited for nightfall to find our true heroes, the beavers, but by dusk, they did not come. Nearly three days ago, husband reports that Mamma emerged, finally, after a whole summer of not being visible near nightfall, with our latest member of the family, a baby beaver!
Thus, we excused Mamma from her summer absence.
But, the dam.
Near dusk, two days after the rain, we wait patiently in a field; chilly, but those mosquitoes know summer isn’t over. We pause, looking, hoping, listening. And then, we see him. Mr. Beaver swims in circles, smelling us already.
My heart feels as if it can explode. YES- I whisper, “Yes.” We will be saved after all. Our dear beaver, make us safe once more.
Much love, from Little Pond
