A Country Mile

August 26, 1996

By Jean Hughes

��It is late in the afternoon when I ride into the country to find August gold. Along with the coneflowers and

wingstems, goatsbeard grows in big swaths. Black-eyed Susans fill little hollows and fields, and sundrops, only a

foot high, huddle along the woods' edges. Birdsfoot trefoil, those tiny yellow buds of sunshine, are ground cover

along the roadside.��

��I have stopped a half-dozen times to walk to the flowers. They are but a blur from the car, but become individuals

when I am up close.��

��Although all these flowers are common, each year they are like a new gift to me. Only once each year can they be

seen, and then for only a short time.

��Woven among the flowers are spiders galore. One is about as big as a half-dollar. Its markings are exquisite.

Another smaller spider also has distinctive patterns on its back. The combination of black and white lines and

designs makes these creatures each a work of art.

��June bugs and one quarter-inch bug with dots of orange on its shoulders hang on the flower foliage. A viceroy

butterfly dances from blossom to blossom.

��Almost any back road will provide golden beauty in August.

��If you love to see goldfinches in their yellow feathers, plant sunflowers. Our sunflowers have grown from oil sunflower

seeds that the birds spilled or planted for us. Now, they are covered with goldfinches, which are the same color. The birds

are often hidden as they eat, for they blend into the gold and black background of the blossoms. At this moment, one sits

on a wire outside my screen door, wiping its beak.

��A sparrow hops onto the roof, only a few feet from me. A flock of house finches gathers on the garage roof, picking

up seeds that the wind has dropped there.

��Hummingbirds stop to drink from the hosta blossoms and from the petunias, and from the feeders we provide.

��Can we ever appreciate enough the colors of the birds and blooms.

�ݬ� �� * * *

��Tonight, I am planning a trip after dark to see the night hawks fly. There are so many mosquitoes this year that they

have no worry of filling up. However, it must be moths they relish, because they always hover around the lights in

parking lots. I once drove 20 miles, after a long day of counting birds, to add night hawks to our list. I knew they would

be there, but they had to be seen to be counted. I love to hear their little voices as they swing in and out of the big lights'

glow.

�ݬ� �� * * *

��I hope that some of you saw the star shower Perseids that seems to radiate from the constellation Perseus. It is a once-a-

year event, always around August 12th.��

��Merry and Chris and I have fond memories of sleeping out all night on "shooting star night," but if you try it, never

sleep on the ground because the chiggers will get you.

�ݬ� �� Perseids Blooming

An August night when life is leaves and stars,

And insects play their fiddles and guitars,

We lie out in the yard and catch the breeze,

And listen to the music in the trees.

The fiery stars draw lines across the sky��

Brilliant streaks, and then they fade and die.

Even a star's light ends, as all things must,

Changed from a glow into a keen stardust.

�ݬ� �� 1996 Jean Hughes