Mowing on Thor's Day (just when you thought the Thor tributes were on summer vacay...)

This evening, as I mowed through the jungle which is also called my yard between rain showers , I stopped after a time to refuel. As the engine quieted I heard the rumble of Thor. I couldn't tell if it was the deeply wild and prehistoric sounding beating of turkey wings flying to roost up in the woods, or the thundering rumble of another storm over beyond Franklin Mountain. It was both. I remembered it was Thor's Day. Glory. The frogs sang extra loudly, and the wet heavy smell that hung in the evening air permeated all of me like a memory. The perfume of the woods in June.

Poppies in foreground overlooking garden stretching up into cove. Thor has been good to us this year.