Warm Night Ahead
Today, the clouds have waited until evening to gather. I fear that they will hold in the day's heat. Their steely blue-gray rumples are pleasant to look at, though, and their presence could presage a delightful nocturnal thunder storm, with great, blinding flashes of lightning, and aural concussions rumbling through the deepened darkness which follows them. This potential has induced me not to turn on the lawn sprinklers this evening, even though I would have enjoyed the sound of them, and the cooling vapors they would have released. There's no point in watering the not-yet-fully-desiccated lawn if it is soon to be soaked by rain.
Before the clouds grew dense, the afternoon was placid, though uncomfortably warm, and was filled with the sound of bees. I continue to see an uncommonly large number of bumblebees this year, but the usually ubiquitous yellowjackets are rare. There have been more butterflies than in recent years as well, but most of the lepidopts I've seen have been white. I have no idea what has become of the monarchs and other colorful species.
Despite the clouds, I can see the slightly gibbous moon and, little more than its diameter distant, the bright pinpoint of light that is Jupiter. The sight will soon vanish under drifting clouds, though, so I'm going out to watch it while it's there.
Before the clouds grew dense, the afternoon was placid, though uncomfortably warm, and was filled with the sound of bees. I continue to see an uncommonly large number of bumblebees this year, but the usually ubiquitous yellowjackets are rare. There have been more butterflies than in recent years as well, but most of the lepidopts I've seen have been white. I have no idea what has become of the monarchs and other colorful species.
Despite the clouds, I can see the slightly gibbous moon and, little more than its diameter distant, the bright pinpoint of light that is Jupiter. The sight will soon vanish under drifting clouds, though, so I'm going out to watch it while it's there.