The loud thunder woke us after midnight. I can’t recall anything that sounded so close without lightning preceding it. For that I should be grateful, because that much noise could have struck close to home. Earlier our daughter called from Minneapolis where the power was out. She and the girls were in a bathroom with beanbags and blankets wondering how long they’d be powerless. One does feel powerless during a natural disaster, however small.

According to some forecasters, we are in for a stormy wet summer. Some are suggesting that the bugs will be more plentiful, and the hardy ones will be the disease-carrying ones. One source predicts that the temperatures will be lower than last summer. The moisture from our unusual spring gets the credit for the bug population. Most of us will survive whatever weather lies ahead of us.

The gardens are appreciating the moisture. Our tomato plants have doubled in size in the last week. While still small, they are more sturdy. Soon I’ll tie them to their posts to keep the fruit off the ground. And life goes on.

A second mallard duck nest is in our front garden. My first thought was that the duck whose 9-egg nest was beside our front door in May was back. My daughter-in-law wondered if ducks had two hatchings in one season. I hadn’t thought of that. Surely that first duck would have spread the word. At the end of our circle is a run-off pond where the first duck family is now residing. At any rate, we will keep an eye on the area to ward off any predators. Presently only 3 eggs are there. She will begin to incubate when she has laid them all.

Natural summer rhythms seem less soothing as I get older. I don’t appreciate noisy, frenetic disruptions. Having grandchildren, ducks, a garden, gives me some balance, but the weather patterns break the rhythm, and I’m unsettled once again. I must remember to be grateful for those little events that keep me grounded.