The week that morning birdsong fades

Nothing that is can pause or stay; The moon will wax, the moon will wane, The mist and cloud will turn to rain, The rain to mist and cloud again, Tomorrow be today. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Lunar phase and lore

The Finches in the Thistle Down Moon wanes throughout the week, reaching apogee, its position farthest from Earth on July 21 and entering its final quarter on July 24 at 8:18 p.m. Rising at night and setting in the morning, this moon reaches its most influential position overhead near dawn. Lunar power should favor early morning angling, especially as the weather systems of July 21 and 28 approach.

Weather trends

Rain is a bit more likely this week than it was last week as chances for showers rise over the next seven days from 20% to 35%. Temperatures in the 80s occur more than 55% of the time, with 90s coming 35%. The coolest days of the period are typically the 22nd and 23rd of the month, when mild 70s are recorded about a fourth of all the years. The most consistent day of the period, and of the whole month, is the 24th when highs in the 80s come 95% of the time. The 23rd brings cool sleeping conditions more often than any night in July, a full 35% of the nights drop below 60 degrees.

The natural calendar

July 19: Pollen has disappeared from the clustered snakeroot. Some spicebushes and privets have green berries.

July 20: The best of the morning bird chorus is often over now for the year. The cardinals still greet the dawn, but on many days they stop singing after sunrise. Robin calls have lost their whinnies and singsong chirping. Swallows are migrating; they can sometimes be seen congregating on the high wires. When the mornings are cool, fog hangs in the hollows before dawn.

July 21: Ragweed blooms throughout the southern states (and rides the wind to your yard). Yellowing locust leaves and brown garlic mustard give a sense of fall to the woods. Osage fruits drop to the ground.

July 22: Geese become restless, and a few Judas maples and Virginia creepers redden as the sun enters the sign of Leo.

July 23: The Sun enters the Late Summer sign of Leo. Cicada song reaches its seasonal peak, pokeweed flowers become green berries, and elderberries turn purple.

July 24: Throughout the country, birds have begun flocking in anticipation of autumn, their fledglings still begging for food. On the East Coast, shorebirds start to move south, often stopping to rest on North Carolina’s outer banks. In the honeysuckles of the Ohio Valley, adult robins teach their young migration calls.

July 25: Around town, a few Judas maples redden. Shiny spicebush, boxwood, greenbriar and poison ivy berries have formed.

In the field and garden

As the July Dog Days intensify, they will bring more Japanese beetles to the roses and leafhoppers to the potatoes, and aphids everywhere. Keep flowers and vegetables well watered and fed to help them resist the onslaught of the insects and weather.

Mid-July rains may be causing soybean root rot and leaf yellowing.

Burdock and catchweed cause problems in the pasture — it’s getting to be bur-time throughout the land.

Keep carrots, oats, bran, iodized salt and good greens on hand to invigorate bucks as the breeding season opens. But keep male goats away from the legumes later in the season; that form of feed may cut down on fertility.

Watch your animals after traveling long distances in the heat. Be sure they have plenty of attention, feed and water. All things being equal, animals (like people) may be more susceptible to disease after a traumatic trip than during their regular day-to-day life.

Countdown for summer

■ One week until ragweed pollen floats in the wind

■ Two weeks until blackberries are ready for jam and brandy

■ Three weeks until aster and goldenrod time

■ Four weeks until the season of fall apples begins

■ Five weeks until hickory nutting time gets underway

Journal

2001: The path into the woods was muddy, the undergrowth bedraggled after July’s Rains. The barometer was rising, the air still muggy, the sky still overcast, but a light breeze promised the approach of cooler weather. Mosquitoes followed me. Cicadas buzzed in high trees. Crows were calling on the far side of the road toward town. A squirrel was chattering.

I saw few flowers in my short walk under the canopy: agrimony, avens, lopseed, enchanter’s nightshade. At my approach, two daddy longlegs hurried across the drooping wood nettle. Three green damselflies floated away from me near the river. One red admiral butterfly watched me from the touch-me-nots.

As I headed back to the truck, the sky cleared, and the sun came down through the trees, brightening my mood and the mood of the landscape around me. Then, I heard a hoarse two-syllable birdcall in the Osage ahead; I was able to get close enough to identify my first Eastern towhee of the summer: black head, white breast, rusty patches on his wings.

At home, I sat on the wooden bench by our small pond, surrounded by bamboo and memories of the garden that once was here: its purple loosestrife, coneflowers, red beebalm, Japanese iris, lizard’s tail, spiderwort, arrowhead, water lilies. Uninhibited by my presence, the red and gold and silver koi fed on the algae, sucking the rocks and splashing. Above me, fairweather cumulus clouds moved steadily toward the southeast on the fresh, dry wind. I felt safe and complete.