I’m referring to Old Man Time. He’s messing with my head again and I want him to stop!

“Old man time, he’s so mean; Meanest man you’ve ever seen.” (Lyrics from the song.)

And he’ll play tricks with your mind, yes, indeed; making you think you’re on LSD! (My lyrics.)

By now you’re probably wondering what the heck I’m going on about and I don’t blame you. I’m ranting. This time it’s not about pesticides, though. This time its about time. That illusion that slips though our fingers like some mysterious smoke from a distant, unseen fire.

Let’s begin.

Just yesterday, or so it seems, summer began. I had finished enlarging several of my backyard gardens and by June they were awash with color.

River Lady House Gardens, Massachusetts, USA

I hosted my usual visitors to the river. Colorful songbirds and hungry hawks;

Rose-Breasted Grosbeak

Cooper’s Hawk

Juvenile Red-Tailed Hawk

Musk Turtle

Snapping Turtle

Juvenile Water Snake

Sublime creatures great and small;

Female Ruby-Throated Hummingbird

Great Blue Heron

American Goldfinch

Black-Capped Chickadee

Monarch Butterfly

I even played hostess to some visitors I’d never met before.

Juvenile Yellow-Crowned Night Heron

Little Brown Bat

Juvenile Rose-Breasted Grosbeak

A juvenile Osprey stopped by and surveyed my ducks. I didn’t get a chance to run in the house for my camera. Note to self: attach camera to my hip.

Juvenile Osprey. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

Silly bird thinking he was strong enough to lift one of my plump Mallards.

My most amazing visitor was Deborah, a woman who, as a young girl, spent summers as at the house next door to mine. Her grandfather and grandmother lived there. We had a delightful morning getting to know each other, and her companion too. Thank you, Deborah, for sharing your memories with me.

Of course the ducks were always here, as was Harlee, keeping me company through the long, summer days as I toiled away in the heat of the sun.

Can you spot the impostor? A fawn-colored Mallard drake spent a little time with my flock.

Feed me, please.

Speaking of toiling in the hot sun (actually I’m not speaking, I’m typing, but whatever), my friend Bob helped me, or should I say I helped him, fix the rotted portion of my house where it meets the deck.

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Funny story, I had paid one contractor to do the work and he never showed up. Yup, took my money and ran. I asked four other contractors if they would do the work and none of them showed up to look at the job. What happened to the American work ethic?

Did I mention it was close to 100 degrees that day? Thank you, Bob.

The summer brought an adventure for Harlee. Here he is donning his new life vest. Yup, first time on a canoe…and the river.

He took to the excursion like a fish to water.

Now, will you feed me?

Aside from a few missteps, it was a great summer. I’m not ready for it to end. Please, Father Time, may I have a few more days before Autumn arrives? Just two or three to once more drink a gin and tonic while listening to the crickets on the night air? Please.

Okay, I get it. Time marches on. Blessed be :}

Painted turtles on my river.