Replenishing Rain by Nannette Croce

Late spring and early summer in southeastern Pennsylvania brought perfect outdoor weather. It seemed each day dawned either cloudless or with only wisps of cotton floating across a deep blue sky. We enjoyed light breezes, mild temperatures, and little of the humidity so common in our region. But, enjoyable and conducive to outdoor chores as it was, by late June my garden was evincing the distress of weeks without rain.

I watered it every couple of days, but as our water comes from a well in an area where recent over building has lowered the water table, I'm always reluctant to spend too much water on gardening in times of drought, and drought was beginning to look like what we faced. Then, a few days ago, the weather suddenly changed. The skies didn't brighten in the mornings or at any time throughout the day, and a drizzle fell almost steadily from morning to night. The bad luck was it dampened a rare three-day July 4th weekend, and rained out the two parties we were invited to, but I didn't really mind.My garden immediately perked up. The leaves greener,the flowers more colorful.

It's easy to take water for granted. Throughout my lifetime short periods of drought have always been followed by overflowing reservoirs. The Pueblo Indians of the Southwest United States knew better. Rain is such an important part of their culture that rain designs often decorate their pottery. Now water all over the country and all over the world is becoming a precious commodity. One more victim of global warming.

These days I'm always grateful for a good, replenishing rain, even when it comes at an inconvenient time.

Sunshine Patriots by Nannette Croce

In the most literal way we are all "sunshine patriots" in the US. Turning out on a midsummer day to wave flags and ooh and ahhh at fireworks. The finish of this July 4th weekend and recent remarks by Senator Barack Obama has me reflecting on patriotism.

Many of us today associate "patriot" with the veterans whose graves we decorate on the first official summer holiday––Memorial Day. Our military does make the ultimate sacrifice, but in the eyes of the Founding Fathers "patriots" are also those pesky protesters of every war. It is common, today, to speak of questioning our government as a right, but to the founding fathers it was more than that, it was a duty. It was the People who would keep their government honest, by constantly questioning its actions. The government served at their will. The People ran the country, not the Congress, not the Judiciary, and certainly not the President. Nothing would have horrified the supporters of independence and the framers of the Constitution more than the notion that patriotism requires marching in lock step with whatever the President or the Congress decides to do.

So what does this all have to do with gratitude? I am grateful to those enlightened individuals who put their lives on the line (had the outcome been different they could have all hanged for treason) in the cause of this truly revolutionary idea. I express that gratitude by reminding myself and others what it all really means and what it requires from us to keep it working as our forefathers intended.

Speedy July by Nannette Croce

July, and suddenly it seems like the summer is speeding away. For the past four years my summer has begun at the end of my daughter's spring semester at college, around mid-May. For a while it seems like June will never come, and when it does, I'm often thinking, wow, it's still June. Summer hasn't even officially begun. Then July happens and everything speeds by.

By July 4th the daylight is already waning a little earlier––good for the fireworks crowd, but it makes me a little sad. I begin to stay out longer watching the fireflies that often disappear from my area in late summer. Soon the cicadas will be announcing the dog days of August, soupy days when it often feels better to remain indoors. When weeds seem to pop up at twice the normal rate and the weather makes it more of a chore to pull them.

But, I remind myself, it's really only the beginning of July. Were summer a child it would just be attempting its first baby steps. Today we entertained family and did what we can't do during the winter, cooked on the grill, sat outside with paper plates, an enjoyable time with quick, throw-away clean up.

Why look ahead when I am at the height of the season? Why not enjoy what I have right now?