Redeeming qualities

OK, I'm woman enough to admit there are things I do like about summer.

It's nice to roll out of bed, pull on whatever, grab the pocket radio, and ask for a ride that will leave me a respectable distance from home in that flat morning light I so enjoy. Walking back, I'm dazzled by those wild oats glowing white-gold beside the road, with their seeds a-dangle in the breeze. At the far end of the filbert rows are diminutive arches framing a buttery-yellow field. A song sparrow flits along ahead of me, drawing my attention to the the fencerow - a tangle of wild roses, hawthorn, poison oak, wild apple, snowberry, and blackberries already warm from the early sun. And all the while, the voices of NPR overriding my mental prattle, and April Baer from OPB giving periodic updates on the traffic for Portland. Ahhhhhhh. . .

There's that half-awake state, somewhere between 2 and 4 AM, when I feel a cool breeze across my face and put my toes out to play for a while before snuggling back to sleep. The voices of a few coyotes or the whistle of the train tell me the night crew is at work and all is as it should be. And whoever is in the cedar tree is welcome, however odd the sounds it's making.

Long summer days as we're mooching about the place - sometimes working, sometimes just loafing - we find the treasures only summer can provide. Under huge leaves in the old tank there are strawberries dangling coyly. Weeding the end of the pine bed where the bindweed grows thick, there are blueberries to keep our spirits up. At the raised bed, a Black Plum tomato between two large basil leaves is a refreshing snack, or young carrots which taste especially good with just a little dirt still clinging to their tender skins. Picking raspberries is an exercise in patience, moving slowly and carefully among the bumblebees who are so graciously pollinating them. Then apples and grapes and walnuts and filberts . . . oh my!