Deep Summer

Three-minute read

Oh … deep summer. Day after day the sun beats down, as temperatures creep into the nineties. Though there is little rain, the air is thick with moisture. Going outside is like donning a soggy jacket. “Like walking through soup,” one friend says. There is nothing to do but retreat indoors.

Yet, I’ve found a way to enjoy these sizzling days, without escaping to the ocean or a pool, or a remote mountaintop. The trick is to step out before the sun does.

I may have an advantage, since I am not a great sleeper. I rarely have to set my alarm. And so, at 5:15 AM, my dog, Lucy, and I suit up for a walk: she sports her neon-green, glow-in-the-dark collar, and I, my trusty headlamp. With doggie bags in my pocket, we are ready to go.

Of course, the day is cooler at this hour. But it is also gentler. Darkness envelopes rooflines, fence lines, and the contours of cars, softening them.  

It is quieter too. Instead of the constant rush of cars and trucks, only a vehicle or two pass. It’s too early for most people. In a week I’ve encountered just two: a walker and jogger.

It’s even too early for the  monotonous rasp of cricket song, rising to a crescendo and then retreating, over and over again. Instead, a barred owl calls from the darkness. I hear the fluid burble of a lone male cardinal, silhouetted on a bare limb, and then the soft pee-weeeee …we-youuuu of an Eastern wood-pewee. I find comfort in the voice of this wee flycatcher that sings in summer heat, long after other migrants have gone silent.

But perhaps loveliest of all, these dry days have brought clear skies.  Each morning I’ve stepped outside to find the moon shining brightly, and, adjacent to it, the planets Jupiter, sparkling like a fine-cut diamond, and Venus, with its subtle, pink glow.

As days passed and the moon grew slenderer, I found, with the help of my Sky Guide app, the muted lights of Uranus and Saturn. It was exciting, and sobering, to look up and see these ancient, fellow travelers in our universe.  It was freeing as well, if only for a moment, to gaze beyond the bounds of Earth and all its frays and fractiousness.

As the sun rises, soft pink ribbons unfurl across the sky between Jupiter and Venus. Then, with day’s light, the planets disappear. By 6:45, traffic picks up. The harsh roar of school busses resounds throughout the neighborhood. Once again, we retreat inside.

Yet, there are consolations. In a few moments, I will put fresh, juicy West Virginia peaches on my cereal. Later, I may slice a thick slab of locally grown tomato, salt it, and put it between two slices of bread, spread liberally with mayonnaise. Later still, I may sink my teeth into an ear of sweet, crunchy corn, something I can’t get enough of this time of year.

Ah, deep summer!

Listen to the Eastern wood-pewee’s dawn call here. ML168032961 – Eastern Wood-Pewee – Macaulay Library. (Wait for the whip-poor-will!)