You know me well enough by now to know that I love to watch the succession of wildflowers. This is the first summer I’ve watched it all summer here, and it’s been continuous delight. In July the Queen Anne’s Lace came out. This weed might be the same or might be different from wild carrot and wild parsnip and cowslip or who knows what else, but I grew up calling something that looked exactly like it Queen Anne’s Lace, so.
The blackberries are ripening. Last week I ate my first fill of truly ripe ones. That’s a throwback; we rolled into town on the evening of July 16 last summer, just as the berries were ripening, and my memories of our early days here are all about 1. painting the inside of the house, 2. combing the seashore in the evenings, and 3. eating ripe blackberries when the painting got to be too much.
I still don’t know what these are, but I’m guessing cherries. They don’t have a seam the way plums do. I do not remember these from last summer at all. I’ll keep you posted.