the tomatoes are growing by the day. i actually have one little pea-sized green tomato. each day when i get home from work i go out to water them and check to see if any more have set. patience is not my long suit. i'm ready to eat red, juicy, ripe tomatoes NOW--and all i have is one set and a bunch of flowers.

i can't stand high humidity, which is odd because i grew up in the Connecticut River valley. but the humidity was usually moderate there except for just before a summer thunderstorm. the big heavy black clouds move in, the air gets really still, the birds and the insects are quiet, and the atmosphere is tense, electric. then all of a sudden fat ploppy drops of rain hit the ground, followed by a veritable downpour. thunder, lightning, counting the seconds between to estimate how far away the center of the storm is.

after the rain the air is sweet and clean, pretty soon the birds and crickets start up their racket again and you can hear the grass grow. funny how vivid are the memories of summer storms.