Not quite the last perch but August is waning and nearly gone now. The waxing moon is setting in the west later each evening... its belly still in the dark swelling into the light more each night. Venus is bright and rising over Walnut Hill before dawn... her shimmering and twinkling awake me just long enough for sleepy admiration. Migrating birds and butterflies are passing by. Movements and rhythms of nature are stirring... exciting activity of wings to air, limbs to roots in earth... various flights from one point to another. From tips of trees or plant tops to buried roots, life forces are dreaming of retreating.
Soon with September's arrival the hummingbirds will join up with others and fly away from Flower Hill Farm and I shall miss their dazzling animation in the gardens. The males are the first to go, as they were the first to arrive in early spring. They are solitary creatures mating with more than one female, forging no bonds and afterwards taking no interest in their young... but males will allow females they have mated with to forage in their territory. The female cares for her young on her own, and they will leave the gardens soon after she departs... heading south flying over tree tops only coming down for food and rest along their migration route. I will miss their squeaky chirps, tiny iridescent, sparkling green bodies and curious flights up towards my face checking me out. It is always a delight to site one resting, as here in the crabapple tree and to observe their many gestures. In the seventh photo down you can see two hummers ... a rare catch for me ... be it ever so muddled. A rarity for another reason too ... as they seem to leave each other alone. Once the little one flies away, the crabapple seems a bit empty... that is until the next bird flies into its canopy.