Spring just passed by and I didn’t even catch but a small glimpse. The hot dry winds of summer are hustling over the parched grasslands of the prairie. Spring was but a moment here n there. Clear high hot skies are now the dominant scene in the great outdoors.
Bing in the middle of the migratory route I get to see a variety of birds headed north and later this fall they will go floating by overhead. A few new ones from the spring ritual. Along with them are the butterflies. The spring movement isn’t as populous as the fall migration. There are times the butterflies are like a mat.
It reassuring to hear the call of certain birds for it is the beginning of summer. The robin has been hopping around since the late winter snows.. The the distinctive chirp of the Western Meadow Lark joins the chorus. The yellow of the goldfinch sets on the feeder, joining the other little birds.
Spring is becoming a memory and the heat of dog days is approaching. There will be couple more late freezes yet. The garden stands by for the leaving of the final frost. Grasshoppers are yet to make an appearance because there are still cold temps at night.
Today the wind whistles over the plains, grasping at what little moisture is in the ground. Overhead is blue sky, tainted with the bits of dust floating in the wind.. Sounds of spring are fading, the hot hand of summer is grasping.
May you have a blessed week ahead and may the steps of the Lord be your guide.