Muggy, muggy, muggy. You can practically squeeze water out of the air in your fist. And the rain keeps coming periodically, probably remnants of the Atlantic hurricanes. Went for a late afternoon walk along one of my usual routes, which I haven’t walked in full since the ankle thing back in April. Ankle felt fine but the left leg was playing up; probably wanted sympathy from all the work it did for three months. Never mind; nature calls, and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen what’s been happening along this trail.
Leaves in the trail remind us that autumn is coming. Joe Pye weed is tall and bees are making use of the pollen. Tent caterpillars are reproducing in what I think is a cumquat tree. The oaks have all had their branch tips girdled by the Brood X cicadas that hatched in May. A great blue heron taking a break along Sugarland Run and no sign of the beaver who started gnawing on the tree last winter; I’m guessing the town trapped and moved it.
A quiet evening finishing a puzzle with Hubby and listening to BBC radio plays.