The hot, hot weather in late May took a toll on apple blossoms. They seem to have opened up on one day and disappeared the next. Of course, my sense of time, and most everyone else’s, may be a bit off, due to isolation and discombobulation.

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The year’s first chanterelles should be glowing brightly on the forest floor.
Most wild plants can be encountered on an every-day walk, but usually not showy ladies slippers. The time is now for a pilgrimage, to a place where they are in masses among lesser – but also beautiful – bog plants.
A perfect day for apple tree pruning. Not too cold, not too sunny, and just a little snow left.
The beavers on the brook nearby seem to have nestled into their bank den. No tracks in the light snow and no new wood chips on the ground.
The ground beneath female white ash trees is littered with seeds. Almost white, they look fresh and optimistic. Makes me think there’s hope.
The green frog eggs laid at the warm edges of our pond hatched in about three days and the tiny tadpoles are nowhere to be seen.
Our dog flushed a grouse off a nest containing just three eggs this morning. Grouse normally incubate 9 to 14 eggs but when, after shooing off the dog, I reached into the brush pile to straighten out the situation, the eggs were warm, suggesting that this female was calling it quits at three.
Luckily, singing season for the veery lasts a long time. They’re still at it, mostly in the mornings and evenings.