August is high summer here in “Vacationland,” but we’re having one of our wettest summers ever this year. August was a monsoon-with-fog month in which the rainfall sometimes was a raging torrent and the fog often visually impenetrable.
Nonetheless, there were sunny days and they often were sparkling examples of great-to-be-alive experiences that will provide enough summer memories to carry us through the winter. We’ll begin here with those good times and note that, here on the coast, water always is a good place to start anything, especially if its glistening in a snug harbor or lazing under puffy stratocumulus clouds.
A positive side of having plenty of precipitation is that our streams flowed fast, our woods stayed lush, and our fields remained mostly green the entire month, unlike many previous Augusts.
Many of our homes here on the coast are hidden in the woods and accessed by very long driveways or country lanes that often are made of dredged “rotten rock”" or some other semi-soft surface. These drives and lanes can provide a soothingly beautiful homecoming. However, after the kinds of violent rains that we had in August, they also could become a jarring path of potholes. Many lanes got several new gradings, often the old-fashioned way.
Well, I suppose that we’ve come to the precipitation part of August. We had many days of plain gray rain, sometimes raging; plain gray fog, sometimes seemingly impenetrable; rain and fog combinations of gray variations, and dark days of fine drizzle in which some color shone through.
Some of our wildlife appeared to be affected by the August rains, especially some of the more delicate insects. It seemed that we saw fewer monarch butterflies, monarch caterpillars, and dragonflies than last August, and many of those that we saw were not in the best of shape. On the other hand, green frogs smiled contentedly in their full ponds.
Our larger winged migrants seemed to fare well. The three osprey nestlings that we monitored since spring fledged in August, although the youngest one sat in her nest alone for days (where her Dad fed her) before she dared to fly off. The great blue herons returned in good numbers this year and concentrated intensely on their fishing in August’s rain and sun without seeming to notice either.
Our major resident wildlife, white-tailed deer, seemed to have no problem with the weather, although the fawns sometimes needed reassuring neck hugs from loving Moms.
On the commercial waterfront, despite foul weather, the lobster season progressed acceptably through August, reportedly better than last year, not as good as the year before.
On the recreational waterfront, the passengers on the schooners and other classic coastal cruisers suffered in some of the bad weather. Sailing in the rain is different from dancing in it, but that show went on rain or shine. On the other hand, when the weather was glorious and the wind was up, there were few better places to be than sailing on a big-masted vessel in Maine waters.
On the educational waterfront, sailing lessons at the WoodenBoat School were not only inhibited by fog and rain, there was at least one day that the wind decided not to attend class and some sailors became rowers. But there were many good sailing days as well, even in fog and rain.
As you would expect, the Down East flora flourished in August’s dampness, especially mushrooms. In the berry aisle, wild blackberries ripened during the month, bunchberry remained bright, and viburnum berries grew profusely.
Water lilies and arrow arum had a good month, as did such August staples as thistle, Queen Anne’s lace, daisy fleabane, and goldenrod.
In the gardens, heather and yarrow stood up and tiger lilies parachuted down.
Finally, and perhaps most memorably, this August was a historic moon month. It had a magnificent full moon that began the month, a dramatic crescent moon in mid-month that lit up Great Cove (shown below), and a huge second (“blue”) moon that was a near-orbit “supermoon” in the early hours of its last day (also shown below). The next blue super moon will be in 2037. This may be the last one for some of us.
(All images in this post were taken in Down East Maine during August 2023.)