June

I don't know why I love June so much - she can be difficult.  Some Junes come to us green and vibrant, tied up in a blooming bow of such grandeur that it almost assaults our senses.  Everything is alive and happy to be part of the general scheme. 

Others arrive blustery and blowing hot rain down on newly planted wonderfulness and stay around for weeks, almost as if to say March didn't do its job and I'm here to make up for it.  I've seen and loved both versions of June.

What fool doesn't love the first June?  We work together in tandem, training vines and dead-heading daylilies, cutting hydrangea for drying and lopping off petunias to encourage new growth.  We start the day with coffee and hummingbirds and end it with a good glass of wine and an old dogfriend.  We are happy in our unity.

But I love the fierce June, too.  Even I recognized long ago that I have no control over weather and gave up trying.  On the days that June is being contrary I merely find books and a light quilt and repair to my chair.  June clamors on around me as I read and doze and glance at All My Children - did Susan Lucci make a deal with the devil?  At the end of the day, June and I have both been true to ourselves and we're both happy.

One year when my children were young it rained every day in June.  Every day.  Young children don't do well when they can't go outside - they need the freedom to be foolish and run and rip and tear up turf and toys.

This year our annual HUGE Fourth of July party was in danger of being a wash, literally.  My daughter got up the day before the Fourth and proclaimed, in the serious manner that she perfected at 2, that she had just done a Sun dance, and the weather would be fine for the holiday and could we please have corn?

The next day broke and so did the weather.  The sun blazed down on our horseshoe and badminton games, ice cream was ready to make and burgers and hotdogs sizzled on the grill, along with my youngest son.  (Sunscreen wouldn't stay on him.)  Friends and family sat on the patio and picnic table and were amazed that the weather was perfect after such a rainy month.

My daughter looked up from  her third ear of corn and said, "I told you I did a Sun dance."  That was enough for her, and she was the only one in attendance not at all surprised at the perfect weather. 

At the end of a tumultuous May I'm not sure what to expect of this June.  It stormed in the Grove for hours yesterday, and when I got home it had barely sprinkled.  That's another thing about the month - it's unpredictable.  Whatever this June is meant to be, I'm ready.

It's been a long year, and she has arrived exactly when she was needed.