Phoebe drowning in honeysuckle. Photo by her daddy, Bill Thompson III.But when June comes
Rench my throat in wild honey and whoop out loud!
Spread them shadders anywhere
I'll get down and waller there
from "When June Comes" by James Whitcomb Riley, the "Hoosier Poet."
My father's favorite poem. Aw, I'm bawling again. That's no way to start a post.
Long shadders, leaf shadders.
When June comes, I get to go out in the meadow with my dog.
I get to open bluebird boxes and find one all full of little gray bluebird girls.
And one all stuffed full of chickadee.
I can look out the window and see a newly minted bluebird contemplating her world.
Or see an indigo bunting sharing a bath with a cardinal.
And not sharing it with a phoebe.
Dear Mrs. Passerina,
Your son does not always play well with others. Please speak to him about sharing.
June is overwhelming. I love it so much. I just wish I could take some of this bounty and spread it out through the rest of the year, that's all. I wish June lasted three or four months, so I could take it all in. But everyone's in a hurry, everyone's nesting, everyone's blooming, everyone's singing, and I can't keep up. I just grab little bouquets as I go.
9 comments:
June is seriously stuffed full of life; I couldn't agree more. It's enough to make me go bittersweet and nostalgic at moments, too. But this year I've had added bonuses. All this watching and thinking and (some may say) obsessing about birds and animals has given me so many gifts. I have to say this is very much in response to visiting your neighborhood each day, so thanks! I've watched 3, maybe 4 new red breasted nuthatches be fed at the peanut feeder by our kitchen window. They perch on the caribou antlers hung above and I have to smile at their hungry chatter. Once in a while they fly down to perch on the edge next to their Momma bird and tremble and squeak while she gathers their little bites. There are 3 new phoebe eggs in our nest out back with no cowbird egg to dispose of this time - maybe that's more the case with the 2nd phoebe broods? Seems everyone is feeding babies at our feeders - evening grosbeaks fluffing out all their feathers stretching for mouthfuls and woodpeckers hopping and bopping all over the trees back and forth. I'm still wondering if I'll spy a hummingbird nest or see where the orioles are living this year. There's enough stuffed into June to last well through 6 months if you just slow down and look!
It sure does fly by, doesn't it?
One of these days, I'm getting one of those great bird spas like yours!
I noticed that spa myself and wondered where I might place one in my neck of the woods.
Loved the baby bird photos.
Loved your post and images. June is all that. Your reference to James Whitcomb Riley's poem made me curious for the whole thing... "Knee Deep in June." It almost has to be read out loud, and is a thrill. I have always loved him, too. Makes my Hoosier heart proud!
June seems to the begging of life for so many of the animals we share the planet with. I found a brand new fawn the other day tucked away in the corner of an old meadow. Absolutely beautiful1
Thanks for the reminder of what a great month June is!
bill; www.wildramblings.com
Oh so true. James Whitcomb Riley poems remind me of my father as well. We used to read them together in that sing-songy way. His favorite was "When the Frost is on the Punkin."
June is definitely my favorite month and I'm sorry to see it speeding past so quickly.
Cowango, thank you. It was "Knee Deep in June." Riley expressed it so very well. And I'm thrilled to find other JWR fans out there. Maybe I'm a bumpkin, but I love his stuff, maybe mostly because I can hear my dad reciting it. Reason enough!
I wish June was longer too--so much to see and do and even with 16 hours of daylight I still can't fit everything in that I want to.
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