American poet, novelist, and playwright Paul Laurence Dunbar saw summer the way many of us do, reflected in the wild world around him. Does Summer in the South, written in 1903, speak to you?
The oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
I’ll be trying to drag my family on some sort of hike this weekend. Corey had no trouble dragging his family to Honduras, where he’ll surely see more interesting birds than me! How about you? Where will you be this weekend and will you be birding? Share your plans in the comments below.