This is my poor bird bath, getting pummeled by rain - big rain. Do you see the size of those drops???? And notice that the columbine has gone beserk with all the wetness and is trying to drown itself...Even a rock has thrown itself into the water in despair.
29 days of rain in June.
rain every day so far in July.
eye yi yi.
Everything here is so wet - the rugs are wet, the towels won't dry, what hasn't rotted in the garden is stunted from lack of sun and heat, the doors won't open and if you get them open, they won't close. There is mold in the shower - attacked daily but it grows back in minutes.
There was a murder of crows in my back yard this morning and they were brazenly walking and eating - a slug was every two inches, an entire yard for a buffet.
I washed a scatter rug and it took four days to dry on the clothesline and even then, I had to finish drying it over the back of a kitchen chair.
And if I hear one more joke about building an ark....
Last Saturday night a brilliant moon peeked out for six minutes. My friends that were visiting from P'field and I jumped in the car and drove 8 miles to the beach, hoping for a view of the sea by moonlight. By the time we got there, it was raining again and we had to settle for a peek by the light of Donna's mini-flashlight. (It amazes me how prepared for everything Donna is. Need a Band Aid? She pulls one out. How about hand sanitizer? Coming right up. A bologna sandwich or a refreshing beverage? No problem.)
Yesterday it was 52 degrees in Eastport and the wind was howling off the bay so hard that I thought it would blow the hairs off my head. I built a fire in my woodstove when I got home but nearly killed myself out getting some wood because my deck is so wet that it is now covered with a fine layer of mossy mold and has become a 24-foot Slip 'N Slide.
I have had it. I'm ready to do a sun dance naked on the top of Cadillac Mountain if it will only stop. And believe me, no one - including the sun - wants to see that. I think when the rain finally stops, thousands of Mainers are going to believe they have suddenly gone deaf...no drips on the metal air conditioner housing, no rumble through the gutter pipes, no hiss from the roadway traffic, no shhhhhhh from the leaves on the trees.
And then we will finally be able to hear it - it's coming closer, louder, nearly on top of us now:
The Drone of the Mosquitoes.