Sunny Saturday at the Lake

Picasso petunias on Spidey

I awoke to the sound of birds, singing wildly for some reason around 5:30, then soon after, the roar of fishing boats began to fill the lake, as a fishing tournament had obviously begun.  It's now quieted down, as the fishermen have arrived at their sweet spots and the birds seemed to have calmed down.  I am not sure why they are at their noisiest at dawn, perhaps because of the contrast between dark and the coming light.

It's a great time of the year: "Knee-deep in June. A wonderful time to be alive and sentient. A time of richness, of early ripeness, of Summer at its very best." And, indeed, the strawberries are local, ready to be picked, soon to be followed by raspberries, cherries and blueberries, so we had better get to the Pick Your Own fields so we don't miss them.

Evie's been out cutting weeds, I've been to the dump, and we are struggling to find a place to put the weeds once they dry out.  It seems worst this June than usual, but it always does.

One of my favorite students, later a colleague, who now teaches at Deerfield Academy in Western Massachusetts, is stopping by on her way to Hudson, with her husband Paul and daughter Hazel.  Also, Barb Cassell called; she's in town for the Greek Festival, the Yassou Festival in Albanian I think, and she's stopping by as well.  So, we'll have company for lunch.