The super-hot days of our high desert are here—the July and August summer days.
Summer enters your soul through your skin and it sits there wanting for you to worship it.
Nothing feels nor looks anything like with on those lovely days of June. Around here it is just heat and perspiration and a fluttering of the heart. The sun shines so bright, that it almost dims the light that shines from within you…
Grasses have started to turn yellow everywhere you look and sunshine in the morning doesn’t feel like powdered gold over the grassy side of the garden. My little sanctuary doesn’t smell of roses either. The garden hasn’t been graced by an abundant amount of roses after the infestation that took over it, but at least I was able to collect a posy of the loveliest of little roses to bring inside…
These darling roses are from my Boscobel rose bush—a meager of roses I should say, for what this beautiful bush is supposed to give. Needless to say, I am happy for this… and won’t complain.
Neither of the two David Austin roses I brought home the spring of 2019—the Boscobel and Abraham Darby, have put ‘real’ roses yet… and I say ‘real’ because all I have gotten from them are but small, unhealthy representations of what these roses ought to be. What disappointment they’ve been thus far.
I supposed, these roses are still taking their time to adjust to the garden; to adjust to this new place and new soil to them… but whatever reasons there may be for this ‘delay’, they haven’t been given much. Actually, they haven’t given anything. And as of today, this is all I’ve been able to bring in from those bushes.
It’s been said that summertime is a season, and a song. And I wonder if it also a growl? Really! A growl!
We were having breakfast outside in the garden this past Sunday when all of a sudden a most disturbing growl was heard above the gentleness of the morning… ending the beauty and quietness surrounding us.
It wasn’t a dog’s growl, or a bark, or any other sound made by an animal we could identified. In fact, we had never heard anything like it before. It was a frightening, diabolical sound that left us glued onto our sits and kept us very quiet for a while.
The sound had come from the other side of the fence, across from where we were sitting. We listed for some movement, or another sound like it, but nothing. Everything went back to the previous quietness. I walked over to the fence and took a peek onto the other side, to see if there was anyone there, but found nothing. No one was there, no animal no nothing. All quiet, all ‘normal’.
We figured that if the sound had come from an animal, naturally there should had been more of it; like what happens with bullfrogs at the peak of the breeding season, or when a wolf howls to claim territory. If it was someone coughing, there should had been more coughing. But that was not the case. This had been just a sudden, terrifying sound, emitted only once, and that was it.
I remember, how I used to spend my mornings working out in the garden on those days before I started my new job, and how, from time to time, I would hear an odd sound coming from that same house; a shrieking or a sound like a wolf howling, but believing that it had to be the owner of that house spying on me and trying to be funny, or trying to scare me, I didn’t pay much attention to it back then.
Whatever it was this time, however, it was really disturbing, and we still don’t know what it could had been.
The Fisherman sweetly mentioned that, perhaps, it could had been that same ape I spied on the rooftops of our neighborhood two Christmas ago?
So I run inside the house as fast as I could and at sunset time, when the sun was setting in the horizon and the sky was turning to a light, dusky purple, and my soul yearned to go out and wait for the tiny silver stars to appear, I tried to go outside… but I couldn’t.
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