In the time of aphelion, when Earth is farthest from the sun:
When timothy forage is bearded with seeds, when almost all the lilies bloom, and the first rose of Sharon and butterfly bush, bouncing bets and water plantain, woodland ginseng and the gray-headed coneflower and the small-flowered agrimony and the spotted touch-me-not come into flower.
When summer peaches summer apples ripen and elderberries set fruit. When blueberries turn blue.
When black raspberries have all been picked; when the best red mulberries have fallen, and blackberries darken, when black walnuts are full size,
When bee-balm feeds the bees and hummingbird moths sip the nectar of impatiens,
When the first cicada cries out,
When young robins, blackbirds and blue jays haunt the honeysuckle bushes eating red and orange berries.
When the young of the great blue heron leave their rookeries.
When the rough-winged swallow is the first to reverse the spring migrations,
When Sirius, the Dog Star, beacon of the Dog Days, lies centered in the southern sky at noon,
The Great Square of Pegasus is almost overhead at midnight and the Summer Triangle fills the west,
This is Bill Felker with Poor Will’s Almanack. I’ll be back again next week with notes for third week of middle summer. In the meantime, whatever you see in nature this week: it is a piece of aphelion.
