Slug

0553/7th September 2023

The humidity yesterday morning had me gasping and my joints protesting.

This weather turns me into a slug!

How grateful I am that the whole of August was not like this, which it easily can be.

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Anyway, I would surely survive it. Relief was in sight, according to the Oracle.

Doing my morning round, I spotted an early rising bee.

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The Sun rose on a drippy morning.

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Dee Dee ventured out, turning to call the others “softies”.

She is not daunted by oppressive heat!

Something up the hill needed to be investigated, apparently…

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She came back to report another deer raid, the Roses of Sharon shorn again.

Only a single bloom survived πŸ™

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Perhaps when they came this morning, it was to apologise, but I doubt it.

I think they were hoping for apples but as there are none this year, they settled for the next best thing.

Who could say no to this face?

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On a remote slope, a lone Zinnia. I’d intended to plant some seeds this year but either I forgot or they were duds.

How this one got where it did, another mystery.

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Zinnia has one companion at least.

A Cosmos, I believe.

Simple and neat. A pleasing image.

Colour-coordinated mysteries.

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Later, we ventured out to fetch a couple of things. Or more accurately to search for them.

Grant wanted to show me a lake where he recently saw a swan, otherwise I would have stayed slug-like indoors.

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But even on a hot, humid day I was prepared to go out with just the remotest hope of seeing a swan!

It has been years since I’ve seen one although hanging on my walls, I have several of Thomas Mangelsen’s wonderful swan and owl photographs.

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We went first to Bennington and Grant didn’t know how to get to the lake without coming most of the way home.

His navigator refused to speak and mine will only speak in French at the moment, which he does not find terribly helpful.

So we discovered more new territory.

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Some landmarks are unforgettable. I remembered this layout of Adirondack chairs from last year.

This year they have really toned them down. Last year they were bright red.

2023 has seemed less colourful as a whole, in my opinion.

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As a landmark the chairs weren’t much good, because last year we’d gone past them in the other direction enroute to somewhere else, long forgotten.

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It was however, soon very obvious that we were in an upmarket sort of area.

The wealthy don’t have a total monopoly on the view, but every time the road surface improves, you’ll find yourself passing impressive properties.

Either that, or you’re in Vermont.

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Just a hint of Fall in the trees.

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We had just come from Vermont, and even we don’t get that easily turned around.

We noted that this will be a good route for leaf-peeping in a couple of weeks.

Assuming we can find it again.

If not, we’ll certainly have fun looking for it.

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Most of our favourite drives have been found when we were either lost or just meandering about.

Or when the driver overshot a turn πŸ™‚

We found the lake but not the swan. Perhaps it will be there next time.

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Then once more, we were back on good old route 22.

Many of the Revolutionary War battles took place in these parts. The blue sign marks the site of an encampment on 13th August 1777, of the British forces under Col Baum.

It is in the town of Eagle Bridge.

While the world has changed beyond any possible recognition since that war, it really wasn’t so long ago.

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What was it I said the other day, about needing a cracking great thunderstorm to break the heat?

Unsurprisingly, it showed up.

While we were out, we had seen clouds on the horizon but they had seemed only to be loitering, without much intent.

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The “Oracle” must have taken the day off because there were none of the usual “ping” alerts of a severe storm.

At least not until about 3 minutes before it struck with impressive force, ripping leaves and bits of branches from trees.

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Grant had been watering his squash garden not half an hour before.

(Which is of course, the surest way to guarantee rain.)

It’s a reminder of how quickly a storm, or any situation can blow up!

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One of the delights of my childhood in Cambodia was that during the monsoons, I could run out onto the veranda and paddle about when the afternoon downpour occurred.

The tiles that got scorching hot in the sun, cooled off quickly and felt good on my bare feet. I enjoyed lifting my face to the rain and getting thoroughly wet.

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After yesterday’s heat, I wouldn’t have minded letting the rain pour over me but I have a healthy respect for lightning.

A quick zap might dispel the leftover sluggishness! I’ll wait for it to pass.

3 thoughts on “Slug

  1. I love your early morning photos. It just goes to show you how rewarding it is to be up early! Oh, and the cosmos – it always reminds me that no matter how simple a flower may be, it has its own unique beauty. And I love your outing – everything is so beautiful (even the chairs and without the swan πŸ˜‰). Watering your garden AND washing your windows – these are the best ways of inviting a rain storm!

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