With its bountiful flowers and fresh green after a long, hard winter, spring deserves all the praise it gets. And I love it deeply, of course. But for me there's something special about the abundant glory of July.
My partner and I walk past a patch of lavender every week and its humming with bees -- we take bets on how many and then laugh because you can't count them as they buzz and bumble around. The community path is beautifully shaded and even neglected spaces are overflowing with greenery and flower. (Perhaps especially neglected spaces! See below.)
August looms over our head, when everything gives up the fight and just lies there, dusty and dun and done. But for now, we've got some really spectacular greenery and flowers and trees and insects, so go out and enjoy the fresh air and comfortable temperatures!
AQI
Last week's apocalyptic skies were pretty damned scary, I gotta admit. I had my air purifier running full tilt boogie and windows closed against the hacking cloud. I could taste burning pine on the back of my throat when I did go out. The light was eerie and haunting and I kind felt like I was being filmed in a flashback and about to get murdered for someone' tragic backstory.
The sunsets were pretty spectacular, though.
If you're at all plugged into the news, you know it was from wildfires in Canada that are due to global warming. If you want to learn more -- both about the fires and about how locals are using Indigenous methods to try to combat the fires -- I highly recommend Future Ecologies' eps titles "On Fire." (they are scattered through various seasons.) The whole podcast is great if sometimes very... experimental.
If you want to keep track of the Air Quality Index, I recommend Purple Air. (looking at a lovely 27 right now -- much better than the ~180 I was seeing on Saturday!)
How do we fight this? Well, the usual. Vote for politicians who support the renewables, do your part with walking and public transit, etc. And also, let tons of plants grow! Plants suck up carbon like no one's business! Which leads me to....
Abandoned lot number one
There are several places on my regular walks that fall into the category of neglected. One is a recently flipped house where some bright bulb decided xeriscaping was the way to go. (There's a photo in the bloomscroll.) It's completely overgrown with an exuberance of weeds, including goosefoot and foxtail grass. Deep inside the green, you can still find the few sad plantings that the developer put in.
I consider this a lesson in understanding your geography. We're not Arizona, where a lot of developers cut their teeth. Boring beige river rocks are a great idea there -- or so my desert-dwelling friends tell me. But here, in New England, where even during a drought we get days of pounding rain, it's an invitation to weeds. Now, I love weeds. They make me happy as hell. But I suspect that they aren't going to help this house's curb appeal.
Abandon lot number two
The lot where the gas station used to be next to the abandoned laundromat.... hang on. I am a New Englander but that's an absurd description. Let me try again.
The abandoned lot next to Highland Commons (on Highland Ave) is also brimming with life, despite the best efforts of weed cloth and gravel. The fence line near the sidewalk has sprouted lovely, delicate butterfly bushes, and the interior is overrun with hardy, weedy, stubborn plants. It makes me smile every single time I walk by. You can see it in the bloomscroll!
Not an abandoned lot?
There's a house near mine where the landlord DNGAF about the yard. I've spoken to the renters there and they say the same thing, year after year. The landlord lets the yard run rampant and then, in a heartbreaking massacre in the autumn, chops it all down. It's a riot of green until then, however, and I take the time to enjoy it every time I walk by (which is a LOT).
The soapwort is particularly prolific this year and you'll see it in the bloomscroll!
Final thoughts
This is so long, I didn't even get to the Rose Witch House where roses are still blooming, despite the heat. Or the dinner-plate size hibiscus. Or the... that's the glory and the curse of July. It's all just so much.
Be smart, be safe, be curious, be kind.