Like June

It was in the mid 80s, sunny and breezy with lots of fair-weather cumulus clouds floating East to temper the sun's rays.  I picked a full basket of blueberries and left at least that many for the birds.  The wild cherries attracted a mockingbird.  A brown thrasher tackled the suet cage. 

A widow skimmer settled on a low perch among the herbs.  Honeybees took over the mountain mint. Some seemed darker than others.  Lots of wasps and native bees joined them.  A great golden digger wasp as twitchy as usual.  A skipper found it too crowded.  A tiny green bee fed inside and aster. 

A skink almost ran into a squirrel.  It smartly camouflaged itself among long thin leaves that made its stripes look like shadows.  

A great crested flycatcher preened on a dead oak branch.  A squirrel sprawled on a different branch.  A brown thrasher moseyed along the top of the fence.  A blue jay perched over the hummer feeder, as if remembering the barkbutter that hung there in the Winter.  

I was happy to see coral honeysuckle blossoms as I feared that, in the enthusiasm of forsythia removal, the honeysuckle had been killed.