by
Jean Hughes
August 5, 1996

In summer, it is most obvious that there are no lazy wild creatures. They all live constantly on the edge of life and must be ever alert to sounds and signs that foretell disaster. They must keep their awareness honed to the pinnacle and be ready to build and rebuild, pounce and dodge, snatch and escape.

Attuned to life so acutely, I wonder if they hear the music of a leaf drifting through the air, as I can hear the tinsel melodies of the leaves in the maple trees today? Or can some of them hear tremors that plant roots make as they search for food in the soil? Do wild creatures have color perceptions that I know nothing of? Are their worlds of prisms as yet unidentified by man?

Some people long to communicate with life from other galaxies when we have not yet learned to communicate with the creatures and plants in our own dooryards, although their lives are interwoven with ours and without them we could not exist.

I have no such desire. I want to learn to talk to the birds and trees, and listen to what they have to say before I am confronted with life from outer space.

I like my stars in the sky and my moon as it is tonight, splendid, and with moonlight like translucent cream poured over the tree tops and the earth sparkling and glowing with life.

I listen to the tree frogs sing above the first goldenrods, the damson ironweeds and pink joe-pye weeds. A few rosy Queen Anne's lace blossoms, among the common white blooms, blush in the moonlight.

I get a perpetual education face to face with the beauty of life. I find great joy and fun in living with the earth not just upon it.

In a large bowl, combine: 1/3 cup olive oil, 2/3 cup vinegar, 1/3 cup sugar, 
3/4 t. dried Italian seasoning, 1/2 cup chopped onion and 1 cup buttermilk.
Add: 1 can drained bean sprouts, 2 sliced carrots, 1/4 cup diced green pepper, 
1 cup raw broccoli slices and 1 cup raw cauliflower slices.
Allow mixture to sit, covered, in the refrigerator for 6 hours or overnight. 
Keeps several days.

The males have changed their feathers and now look like their mates. The young look like the females, too.

The indigo bunting and his pale-brown wife have pale-brown babies. Their second nests are full of eggs.

In the fields are many unshorn spots where nests of birds had to be mowed around. Ironweeds get their chance at life there, too.

It is on such a day that I am walking to places of rank growth. If I did not already know where the paths are, I could not find them.

On a hillside, I stand in a small opening where the sunshine can reach. There are many of these little sunny pockets in the hills. They are each a wildflower garden. Some of the gardens have only a single bloom.

I can see the rain-muddied creek and hear the choruses of cicadas swell and hush, swell and hush. The prolific life of summer, and its sounds, hug me gently.

Most of summer's life is not gold, purple, red, pink or blue. It is that profuse color of grass.

Jean's book of ramblings and recipes "A Country Mile of Winter" and her book of poetry "The Earth's My Home" are available for $4.95 each plus $1.30 for postage and handling. Ten of Jean's favorite recipes will be included free with each book ordered. Order from...

Country Mile Publications
616 E. Monroe
Delphi, IN 46923