The magpies are done fledging and I no longer get the morning serenade. Now the juvenile robins are learning how to fly, which is marked by the regular thump of feathered body against window pane. Most of the errant juveniles end up fine and a little better educated, but occasionally one of the more enthusiastic fliers breaks its neck on the glass. I had never though of a house as a Darwinian agent, but I guess for robins it is.
We have settled into high summer recently. We haven't had any rain for a couple weeks, so the unirrigated grass is starting to turn tan and grain fields are ripening into gold. The hay has all been mown and the bales dot the fields. Most of the wildflowers are gone, but some lupine holds on; it was a prolific year for lupine. Lawn-mowing has slowed down to once a week, which makes my son happier. The abundant growth of May and June are passed in its blaze of green, and from here on out, the plants will get tanner and more fruitful.