A cool Saturday evening

This is a moment from Thursday afternoon. The heat index was 115.

There was a certain glee around the neighborhood today, though, something about a temperature drop of what felt like 40 degrees. And rain. Don’t forget the rain. Jerry and I went out to take a walk just after dawn and he commented on how humid it felt. He was gone the past two weeks and missed the spectacularly hot weather. I said this was the most refreshing morning since last Sunday; then we went for a ramble in the rain.

Yesterday I watched the goldfinches panting as they fluttered about in the dogwood. I had water “stations” set out for any wee creature that needed them and a birdbath and I stood waiting for them to come down, but the breeze was in the tree, so they went for relief there.

Today though, with the rain the yard was alive. I got distracted watching a Titmouse family eating seeds off the lilacs and the cardinals (molting!) tried to get them to stop. The drama didn’t last long. I think something may have been said about the cardinal’s bald head and bad feelings. Maybe I’m projecting.

Here’s a poem I read recently that felt right to share for Papa Bear, Dean Husted. And feels right to share here on a cool Saturday evening.  When by Rebecca Baggett from The Woman Who Lives Without Money: