There were many times during May and June that I thought the seasons this year would go from Spring to Fall, giving Summer a clean miss. Summer was late this year. On June 19th, Summer crashed through the cabin door, grabbed a cold beer, and made itself at home. Everyday last week was hot, still, and past due.
Animals were everywhere. In addition to all the damn bugs, there was an eagle hunting the north end of the lake all week, and a suicidal skunk that did an impromptu interpretation of Pamplona's "Running with the Bulls" with the Saturn as the bulls and the skunk as the slow guy that gets gored (The tires played the role of the horns (the role of the blood was played by skunk smell (and it continued on the stage long after the recreation was over))).