We are two-thirds of the way through summer and the last third promises to be one of the toughest to get through, unless you stay inside or remain in your car. If you go outdoors, either in the field or in the water, on the South Fork you’re in for it. A host of pests will be waiting for you. They have to get their dinners before turning into adults or laying eggs.
The middle of the summer is the best time to enjoy the plants. I like birds. I like mammals, I am one. I like fish. I like snakes, salamanders, turtles, and frogs. I like all of the animals without backbones, especially the ones in the sea. I even like insects, spiders, and most other creepy-crawlies. But there is nothing quite so beautiful as a plant. I like plants best.
The weather people tell us we are in the dog days of summer. It is not surprising, then, to hear at the day’s hottest point a piercing whine, the likes of which you might have woken up to on an October Sunday morning when the gasoline-powered leaf blowers start in. But in these boiling-hot days, that sound is not a leaf blower but the dog day harvest fly, or dog day cicada, perhaps the loudest of all insects in North America.