Tuesday, and the date of this month's full (Mead) moon... Last evening, Spencer and I stood outside together for an hour or so after dark, and there were bats everywhere, a sign of high summer in progress - we counted at least seven of them in the garden at once, circling and swooping and occasionally silhouetted against the golden moon rising over the old trees.
This morning, the sky is clear and blue with nary a cloud in sight, and a light breeze is ruffling the foliage in the garden. It is pleasantly cool, but not for long. The kitchen windows are open to the day, and we can hear a whole choir of starlings chattering in the ash trees along the back fence, a cardinal or two in the cedar hedge, a handful of chickadees dancing about in the buckthorn - the shrub is sporting a healthy crop of berries and exerting a mighty tug on the sensibilities of every wild creature in the neighborhood.
When I wandered outside with a mug of coffee just after sunrise and looked down, there was an Eastern cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) resting in the grass at my feet, and trusting soul that the wee rabbit was, he or she stayed for quite a while, nibbling tender shoots of white clover and looking up at me from time to time with dark and luminous eyes. My beautiful boy was right there at my side, nose extended, tail straight out and his foreleg (or rather arm) lifted elegantly in a perfect German Shorthair point. Somehow or other wild things in our little realm know that they are safe here, and that we will not give chase.