ON THIS AUGUST MORNING AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES things are quiet. Mostly. The storms of two days ago are a fading memory.
The two young eaglets scream and squall from the Eagle Tree, begging for a morning fish. The blue jays are waking up. The chipmunks and red squirrels cavort on the deck, begging for seeds. The 3 thousand mile moat by the Church is placid and calm, the Deacon Pines still.
Dew is heavy on the grass and ferns this morning, a common thing in August. We also see soft quilts of fog floating over fields and meadows in the evening, and enjoy the throbbing song of the snowy tree crickets.
The past few days have witnessed much repair work on the Caretakers’ Cabin deck, to make it more sound for the acrobatics of chipmunks, of course. Last night we had dinner on the deck, with nary a mosquito in sight.
Another project is in the works—a nice little canoe shelter to get the old Pistachio Princess Mad River and the Canadienne off the ground and protected from the elements.
It’s a fine morning to put the canoe in the water, actually. August is a fine month altogether. In fact, I could do with a couple more August’s each year, and one less February. Just a thought…