July here was alternatively sunny, wet, chilly, and foggy — sometimes on the same day. Nonetheless, the month often was beautiful no matter what the weather. That wasn’t unusual. What was unusual about this July was that it was plague-infested., which meant that many who wanted to be in our fair state at the height of summer were prevented from coming. And, the enjoyment of those who have the good fortune to live here was limited in strange ways.
Yet, there was much to enjoy in July, the month of picturesque fast change here. In these latitudes, July is a time to feel and see both high summer as well as the end of that season and the beginning of autumn. For example, here are two views of Acadia National Perk across Blue Hill Bay at about the same time of day. The first was taken on a clear July 6, the second on a hazy July 31:
There are other ways to look at July’s changing beauty. For example, here’s the mouth of Patten Stream in Surry, Maine, with and without exploring tourists. (Yes, tourists came here in July, but not as many as in the past.)
Many Maine towns that traditionally celebrate the Fourth of July in a big way had to abandon the celebration or think out of the box this year. The resourceful Brooklin Volunteer Fire Department sponsored a “No Contact” parade of emergency vehicles and classic cars and trucks for socially-distant Town residents to wave at on that foggy and rainy Independence Day:
Speaking of fog, July fog can be some of the densest and most acrobatic, due to the seemingly random temperature shifts in the month.
While it may be fun to watch fog, it’s no fun to fish for lobster during it. Or during a pandemic. Or during a trade war with China, one of the biggest lobster customers. Or when the the market is questionable due to these factors. It seemed that, because of those reasons and others, many fishermen (male and female) hesitated this year and waited until July to get their traps in and to sell their catches at the lobster hut in Naskeag Harbor.
While we had fewer human tourists, we seemed to have our usual number of feathered ones. We have been spending some time monitoring the return of Ozzie and Harriet, our neighboring summer resident osprey pair, and their three youngsters, born in June. We’ve named the nestlings, in order of birth, David, Ricky, and Lucy. These youngsters also are part of the fast-change-phenomenon of July. Here, you see them on July 9 and July 28:
Below, Harriet takes an occasional break and then comes back, helicoptering down to the nest. Ozzie drops takeout orders of fish into the nest. Lucy tries to continue to shelter under her mother’s wing, even though she has become too big for such pampering. And, Ozzie takes off from his spruce-top watch tower to chase away a foreign osprey that invaded his family’s air space.
Bee balm blooms in the middle of July and the little (3-4”) female ruby-throated humming birds that nest in the area appear in the garden to sip the flowers’ abundant nectar. (Females don’t have ruby throats.)
Milkweed flowers also bloom in July and the monarch butterflies return to sip the nectar and lay eggs on the plants’ leaves. The eggs become caterpillars that eat the leaves on which they were born; they’ll become our first home-grown generation of monarchs in August.
Clear-winged hummingbird moths and eastern swallowtail butterflies are among the many insects that also invade the milkweed flowers:
Queen Anne’s lace, July’s signature wildflower, is everywhere by the end of the month. Native fragrant waterlilies arise in July and bunchberry plants shed their flowers and offer their red berries. Black-eyed Susans, wild daisies, day lilies, tansy, and the first goldenrod also appear.
Among the many July garden flower favorites here are roses, lavender, heliopsis, peony, echinacea, and clematis:
We end with an image, taken in July, of the wonderfully complicated, but Maine-like, entrance to a local home. It seems to say. “Welcome, come on in!”
(All images here were taken in Down East Maine in July of 2020.)