�ݬ� �� A Country Mile

Aug. 19,1996

�ݬ� �� By Jean Hughes

��I cannot say that August is my favorite time to walk in a woods near the water. Today, it is hot and muggy, the growth

is deep and the gnats and mosquitoes are bothersome. But this is the only time to see the beauty that only this month

affords.��

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��This morning, in the woods, dragonflies hover over the paths and gardenfuls of tall bell flowers brighten the landscape.

Green-headed coneflowers hold their golden petals high above the verdant undergrowth. Pokeweeds blooms hang in

profusion. Little yellow sorrel blossoms peak from between green leaves.

��I lift the long stalks of Solomon's seal to find the purple fruits hanging beneath the leaves. So many of the colorful

beauties of the earth are hidden and must be learned about and walked to if they are to be enjoyed.

��Grasses bloom. One is about four feet high and has long, sturdy slender stems. Its bloom is six inches long and looks

like a big centipede. I take it in my hand. Its hairs are as soft as that of its crawling fellow traveler upon the earth. I can

feel the life in it, although it cannot move on its own. Instead, it must rely upon the wind to move it to and fro, and when

it is ripe, to carry its seeds and drop them to be planted. We do not always appreciate the wind as a planter of seeds.

��A large spider web is stretched between dried stalks only a few inches from the ground. I see that the small creature

in attendance has a few meals ready and waiting.

��There are several bright green beetles and one brown damselfly with white tips on its wings. Also, small grasshoppers

are abundant.

��I travel to the spot where two streams meet. It is much changed from when I was here a short time ago. The water is

only an inch or two deep. Sandbars, that have been covered with rushing water so often this year are now like small

islands stretching far out into the water.

��I hear tender bird whispers and the soft sounds the water makes as it flows gently around the bends of the sandbars.

��On the sandy, rocky bars, a group of semi-palmated plovers run here and there and take turns bathing in a small inlet.

The little birds are camouflaged against the sand and rocks. I have to see them move before I can follow their antics.

��Swifts fly overhead and one great blue heron flaps slowly to a perch in an overhanging maple tree. Another heron,

taking steady strokes, comes from upstream to join its companion. After a few minutes the two take off down the river.

��A brown beetle and a spicebush butterfly are near my feet. The spicebush hovers around me and lights near as I sit

quietly. I slowly run my toe toward it and it does not mind. It stays all the while I am watching the birds.

��Two boys join me. They have planned to fish and are surprised that the water is so low. They go upstream and I can

see them wading in thigh-deep water. They tell me they are trying to catch catfish and bass, and anything else that will

bite. It always gives me joy to see boys and girls who find their fun in the out-of-doors.

��As I leave the area, from a nearby corn field, an indigo bunting calls. A viceroy butterfly wings nearby and a song

sparrow sings a sweet goodbye.

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��Tonight, heat lightning flashes across the sky. I can remember sitting on my front porch, as a teenager, watching the

August skies burst into light, and listening to the soft rumblings that were emitted from the dark clouds. This is the first

time I have thought about the beauty of�� heat lightning for 50 years.��

��It is not possible to appreciate, constantly, all the beauty that this earth affords. What a wonderful place to spend a

lifetime!�� 1996 Jean Hughes��

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