Unlike many days this summer with fog (see above), it was one of those magical summer afternoons with clear skies and a perfect breeze; my youngest teenager did not utter a single word of protest when I said that we would be going for a paddle on the lake, which I counted as a spectacular win. We used the Merlin app (can’t say enough good things about it) on our walk back to identify a red-eyed vireo, and after our paddle, the cutest little common yellowthroat was very curious about us and danced all over the ferns. We identified it by its song first, and then it came over to get a good look at us and flitted around for several minutes. Yellow Bandit is another name for them, which, given their little black mask, is suitable and also adorable. (We weren’t able to get a good photo, but you can see one here.) We got sidetracked in the app by the fact that there is a bird called a Wigeon and it is a dabbling duck. Isn’t that the most delightful sentence?
Birds aside, the water lilies in our cove are at their peak right now. I like to pick a few every July - the scent is subtle and sweet, and they are just the loveliest in a bowl on the table. I also love the reminder they are of the beauty that can grow from the mud. Which, this year, made me think of the beauty of organ transplants that comes from the mud of conditions requiring them. It also made me think of a book I just finished - Tomson Highway’s Permanent Astonishment. It is a love song to the Canadian North, is funny and touching and filled with love. I listened to the audiobook via the library using the Libby app, and loved hearing the Cree words in my ears. One of the chapters is about his Dad and making the most of bad situations, which again, makes me think of the lilies and the mud.
It’s taken me the better part of a week to get this posted because of computer troubles - trouble #1 is that my laptop keeps crashing, and trouble #2 is that I hate sitting down at the computer in the summer. There is still one whole glorious month of summer left, and I want to soak in every last minute with summer visitors, time camping, being out in the garden, and puttering to my heart’s content. I am feeling one hundred percent back to myself since the kidney donation surgery, and I’ve been cleared to do “whatever I want”! Josh is coming along slowly but surely, for which I am SO thankful. It almost seems impossible that it even happened, which is what I was hoping for all long.