End of May

We have no use for the hay crop that grows in our upper meadow so it is harvested several times each summer by one of the Beachy Amish families in the neighborhood.

The frequent rain throughout May has been discouraging for local farmers hoping for a break in the dark wet days.

I was at my desk reading late on Saturday afternoon when I heard the sound of a tractor moving around the field. The Beachy farmers don't work on Sunday whatever storms may threaten. We watched the cloudy skies through Sunday and Monday, the threat of more rain ominous. 

The scent of new mown hay was sweet in the heavy air.

Monday evening was coming on when the tractors rolled in to bale and collect the hay.

The yield was nine bales--the heaviest cutting in our six summers here.

By dark the bales had been loaded and trundled away.

First nasturtium of the season blooming in a pot outside the greenhouse.

The different shades of red are my favorites but I welcome nasturtiums in any color.

Two male hummingbirds arrived on time during the second week of April. We knew that the females had followed them, but sightings were few.

Closing in the porch meant that the feeders had to be repositioned. I wondered if seeing their reflections in the window glass had upset the birds.

During the past ten days activity at the feeders has increased. Today a feeding frenzy was almost continuous. I counted five birds hovering at one time.

Thimble-kitten is enthralled by the tiny birds swooping and fluttering just beyond her reach.

We had drama this morning when I raised the window and then returned to the kitchen to fetch a refilled feeder. A hummer flew in, then beat frantically against the glass rather than diving back out. 

Thimble was quick to notice.

I scooped her up and thrust her into the adjoining sunroom, shutting the door in her whiskery little face.

The bird stayed just out of reach at the top of the window frame; Seemingly it couldn't fly downward and then out.

I fetched a soft dishtowel from the kitchen and after several attempts was able to enfold the bird and toss it out the window, where its companions immediately swooped at it as though scolding. 

Walking yesterday to the mailbox I set up a pair of kildeers who screeched, flew around me, landed in the verge of the lane, rose to swirl about ahead of me.

Coming back I was surprised to note that an egg had been deposited in the same small stony hollow where the first eggs hatched on May 17.

If this is a second family I hope the chicks fare better than the earlier babies. 

Too much rain today for outdoor work, so I spent time in the kitchen.

Four loaves of anadama bread, a lovely quiche filled with spinach, bits of turkey bacon, onion and chopped tomato with a topping of shredded cheddar and fresh parsley.

Beets cooked, peeled and sliced; deviled eggs, the last of the strawberries hulled. Baked potatoes for supper with extra to cut up and brown in butter for another meal.

We walked the loop of the lower meadow just before dark, Willis-cat lumbering behind.

A night without rain, lighting, thunder and wind would be welcome!