It’s beautiful here–all the hydrangeas in bloom, big night sky struck with stars, warm water in the swimming hole and even sufficient water, for mid-August, in the Groverkill.
A gang of dragonflies ushers in the evenings, swooping over the front lawn in the waning golden light, their flight patterns so erratic that if they were people in cars, Michael would pull them over. A grey hummingbird (to my eyes, it’s always the same one) is mad for the tubular orange flowers on the plant Hans and Lexanne gave us in the spring.
And at dinner we devour summer’s sweetness–perfect corn, peaches and tomatoes from the Kingston Farmers’ Market, Davenport and Farm Hub.
So why am I doing a bit of pining for sweaty, light-polluted NYC? (Read tomorrow’s post.)
*Several years ago, Steve asked me if I could live in Stone Ridge full-time. I must have looked stricken, because before I could answer, laughing, he fired off follow-ups, “No? Not enough fizz for you?”