July Poem

Butterflies, riverside picnics, football nights, lavender

It has been a beautiful and utterly summery month, like an imaginary July, and all month you have been leaving me your tit bits of wildlife spottings, star watchings, summer bakings and general atmospheric ramblings. Now I have taken them and pared them down and put them together to make up our poem of the month, beautifully illustrated as ever by fabulous Sarah Dowling.

Here we go:

The first picking of my precious sweet peas this year. Displayed on the kitchen table in my late Mum’s small cut glass vase, as she did

Glow worms in the garden

Picking a handful of warm raspberries to share

Pausing on the path to watch the bees on the lavender

The air so heavy you could grab a handful

Tiny tomatoes forming on the green scented plants

The honeysuckle and jasmine, heady scents at dusk

Bumblebees dusted by pollen

A low, lazy full moon trundleing across the southern sky

Hazel nuts, cherry plum and blackberry all starting to ripen

Hollyhocks at their peak, self sown over the garden fence

The fields and verges baking into mid summer tawniness and the slopes of the downs gold in the low evening sun when the bats fly circuits

Copper and azure banded demoiselles dancing over the chalk stream

Breakfast outside between heavy showers

The first Migrant Hawker of the year, hunting in our garden

Butterflies over the wild patch across my street

The garden smells of sweet peas and roses

The veg patch is looking very sad as is the lawn which is now the colour of straw but the strawberries have ripened just in time for Wimbledon

Watching flocks of swifts appear and disappear high in the sky for over two hours

Peak firefly season here. My 3 year old nephew exclaiming “they’re magical!”

The leaves getting darker green, damp grass, a cooler wind

Everywhere the low, steady hum of midsummer

Sheltering with a book in the warm sand dunes

Hearing the wildflower meadows buzz and chirp: crickets, dragonflies, six spotted burnets, meadow brown and Essex skipper butterflies and many tiny froglets

Butterflies fluttering everywhere like fireworks as I walk through the long grass

My dahlia flowers

The first ripe blackberries in a roadside hedge

Wilting in the heat at Disneyland Paris, revived by cold ice-cream and the promise of magic on the next ride

Beautiful tree canopies to drift under in their dappled shade

A jumble of nasturtiums, tumbling over paths with their jewel bright colours

The heat, the heat! Inescapable heat, overwhelming, overbearing. Sleeping with the fan full blast

So many butterflies and moths, of all colours and varieties.

A vortex of swifts circling and shrieking

I try to sleep under the stars, the wide span of the Summer Triangle above, a fat crescent moon rising…but woken by fighting fox cubs and hungry mosquitoes

Windows open at night and firmly closed and shuttered in the morning

Harvesting the first of the mini munch cucumbers, and using them to flavour iced water

Early morning walks and water spray to give our dogs some relief

Tasks completed by 10 then reading in the shade of the apple tree or watching Wimbledon in the cool lounge

Blackberries!

Pretty pink field bindweed along the footpath edges

It’s too bloody hot

Football chat

Taking my youngest daughter to her prom last night, looking so grown up. Then collecting her later, feet sore from dancing, voice hoarse from singing, munching a bag of sweets and looking every inch my teenage girl

Visible electricity tearing through midnight purple clouds followed by hammering rain and the slightest cooling breeze

Filling up the birdbaths

The salmon runs are coming in and there is fresh salmon on the barbecue, and the smoker is going fulltime

Drifts of fire weed and heather on the hills

Wandering down the hot and dusty pavement to the local ice-cream parlour

Birds quietening down for summer

Blackberries. And they are ripe and sweet

The fields are cut and the hay bales stacked. Dust and debris is bleached by the sun and scattered across the cut fields

Daily bunches of sweet peas upstairs and downstairs

Walking in the leafy shade into the evening and sitting among butterflies to watch the city from Parliament Hill

Rowan berries in shades of rust

Wasps using the waterlily leaves to sip from the barrel pond

Sultry hot nights and the joy and heartbreak of England’s journeys end in the World Cup

Quieter morning walks and the skylarks have fallen silent. The swifts still screech overhead in the evenings

Gorgeous gardens in the heat full of bees and butterflies. Early morning watering

The clatter and chatter of graduation in the searing heat. All black squares and soft gowns within the majesty of the Wills building. Just how is that boy graduating? Haven’t I just dropped him for his first day at school?

The new moon an ochre crescent low in the night sky, quietly poised with Venus to her right

One runner bean pick: enough for a meal

The warning flags of corn tassels emerging in the surrounding farm fields: ‘summer is half over. don’t let it slip by, time to make it count.’

A swallow tailed kite soaring and circling overhead, calling on southwestern Florida before migrating to South America, an early messenger of seasonal change

Orange and pink tropical sunset swims in the bathtub warm Gulf and the new crescent moon high in the twilight sky

Last choir session of the term, so we sang in a garden, watching kestrels hovering over the valley

Standing in our tiny garden, surrounded by a jungle of plants, a whiff that reminded me of big glasshouses in botanical gardens - all green and dank and humid

The garden is so quiet, hardly any birds to be heard although still plenty visiting the garden for a drink of fresh cool water

Walking on the crisp bleached-white grass barefoot

My first ripe tomato

The supermarkets offering deals on barbeque food and ice cream across from the “new season” winter coats and boots

Suddenly harvesting peas, beets, zucchini, strawberries, haskap blueberries, rhubarb, spinach, lettuces, cucumbers, kohlrabi and other assorted herbs and veggies along with smoking and processing a lot of salmon

Echinops globes turning a vivid blue and the verbena bonariensis shimmering with butterflies

Watching every single match in the world cup, either sweltering in the pub or in the early hours at home, and now feeling miserable that its finished - what to do with myself?

A picnic by the river. A duck stole our quiche

The agony! The ecstasy! Of the football, late nights and sleepy mornings

Blackberry snacking, river paddling among tiny silver fish

Picnicking under a splendid canopy of willow. Stone skimming. Playing cricket on a soft lawn, barefooted

Two kingfishers flying along the river, early morning light, electric blue

Wondering if grass will ever be green again. Dusty gutters and road sweepers

A butterfly landing on my arm

On the underground with an olive tree, a large bunch of sunflowers and a garden ornament

Bobbing about in milky turquoise storm waves on a tropical island, taking shelter under the sea grape trees

Sweet and abundant tomatoes and cucumbers and courgettes the size of marrows

A batch of blackberry brownies

The Scottish machair covered in daisies and buttercup, waves of foxgloves, enormous fuschias lining the stone walls

Filling little bags with lavender for gifts over the months ahead

Whispers of darkness on the fringes, the summer sun sinking to the horizon noticeably earlier in the evening

At last redcurrants at the farm shop

Tiny blue butterflies alight in a dance on the blooms still surviving this blaze of weather

Hosepipe ban kicking in

Pumpkin vines rambling across the garden, dotted with jewel-bright pops of colour from nasturtiums peeping through

The bright emerald of the well watered greens on the golf course contrasting with the dusty path alongside

Bleached grass, deep gold evening light

Swift flypasts in ever increasing ‘screams’ - they are readying to depart

A patchwork of bleached fields, many already harvested and the straw baled and taken away

The birds quiet in the late afternoon heat

A glorious sea dip! Watching terns and baby seagulls swoop overhead as we float in the cold water

Thunderstorms clear smoke, but by morning the dusky air returns.

Parched, hard ground with huge cracks

Dinner eaten on little tables under a cheerful awning, delicious Greek food

Acorn caps emerging, first blush of blackberries, rowan sloe, elderflower berries

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Ah summer…. What a beauty. As ever I love the way all of the entries shift as the month wears on. And our first mentions of…you know what…which always creep in about now, no matter what the weather is doing. Thank you so, so much for your thoughtful and poetic participation. I really love this one (do I say that every month??).

We will NOT be doing it all again for August, as I am taking the month off, but please keep on chatting and sharing in the chat, particularly on Sunday mornings but really any time you fancy.

As ever please leave us a comment if you have enjoyed this to buoy us along, and perhaps press the ‘share’ button as this is how people get to hear about us.

And if you are feeling so moved then do drop Sarah a pound or two to say thank you for her perfect little illustrations: the ‘Buy Me a Coffee’ site suggests £10 as a minimum donation which quite an off putting amount! A smaller token of your appreciation would be very welcome indeed.