‘And what is so rare as a day in June….’

June 14, 2020 at 1:14 pm (Local interest (Baltimore-Washington), Music, Weather)

Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;

From The Vision of Sir Launfal by James Russell Lowell

This is a happy, even joyous poem, for a decidedly not joyous time. Yet it may  be a worthy consolation.

Yesterday, when I stepped outside to retrieve the paper, I was greeted by a day of almost unearthly beauty: shining sun; cool, still air; intense  blue sky…perfect. And yet, of course, it was very much of this earth, this very earth, which at this moment is so torn by grief and pain.

[O have mercy on us, Great Creator….]

Meanwhile, I attempted to capture the sound of the neighborhood woodpecker plying his trade. You have to strain most awfully to hear him:

Of  course, I have never seen one. I would  be the world’s worst birdwatcher. Neither of the following photos were taken by me. They  are ‘possibles’ for woodpeckers here in the Free State:

Downy woodpecker

 

Red-bellied woodpecker

 

Pileated woodpecker

(At times, these feathered creatures may be heard rat-a-tat-tatting on the house. In those moments, we refer to them as Aluminum-siding peckers, or just Siding peckers. When they choose to engage in this activity when one is trying to nap, they are called Clueless peckers, or possibly Annoying peckers.)

Anyway, one is eternally grateful for clear, dry mornings, rare as they are in these parts. Just a few mornings ago, I was greeted by this, on our west-facing windows:

Has anyone written a poem about humidity? Probably, but I don’t know it. Music has certainly been written about spring and summer:

 

 

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