Look at this beautiful world, and read the truth

In her fair page; see every season brings

New change to her of everlasting youth – 

Still the green soil, with joyous living things

Swarms – the wide air is full of joyous wings. – William Cullen Bryant

The Morning and Evening Stars of July

The Morning Star of July: Venus rises from the east in Taurus. Jupiter follows in Gemini. Venus is the brighter of the two. 

The Evening Star in July is Mars, high in the. western sky at the end of the day in Leo.

The Weather in the Week Ahead

The Corn Tassel Rains continue through the period, and temperatures, which cooled somewhat during the first days of July, begin to grow warmer. After the 7th, there is a full 90 percent chance that afternoon highs will reach 80 or above. The period between July 13th and 15th brings cooler conditions in the 70s 25 percent of the years, with the 13th being known to see a high just in the 60s. On the other hand, highs above 100 are more likely to occur on July 15th and 16th than any other days of the lower Midwestern year. Nighttime lows typically remain in the 60s, but chilly 50s occur an average of 15 percent of the time.

Natural Calendar

Rose of Sharon Season flowers in the hedgerows, Phlox Season in the gardens. Mulberry Blooming Season and Black Raspberry Season come to an end. Thistledown Season and Milkweed Pod Season deepen along the roadsides. Cicada Song Season swells; Giant Green June Beetle Season comes now, too. Hosta, Liatris and Obedient Plant Blooming Seasons take over the dooryards. Japanese Beetle Season peaks in the roses, the ferns and the soybeans. Leafturn begins now in the undergrowth. Depending on the year, buckeye foliage can be badly rusted, and leafminers often turn the locust leaves brown. Along the roadsides, hemlock, parsnips, and many dock plants are withered and brittle. June’s clovers and grasses are past their prime.

Phenology

When the first apple and cherry tree leaves become yellow and drift to the ground, alewives head back to sea from their estuaries along the Atlantic Ocean.

When road kills increase in summer, thunderstorms and intense Dog Day heat often follow. When mimosa webworms appear on locust trees, potato leafhoppers reach economic levels in some alfalfa.

When teasel flowers along the roadsides and wood nettle blooms in the woods, then bagworms attack arborvitae, euonymus, juniper, linden, maple, and fir. Root diseases stalk the soybeans, and the wheat still standing in the fields sometimes suffers from rust, powdery mildew, head scab and glume blotch.

When elderberry flowers turn to fruit, then giant green June beetles appear in the garden, and poisonous white snakeroot is budding. Gardeners often dig their garlic then and plant their autumn turnips after they process their garlic.

Almanack Literature

A Sudden Snowstorm

By Rick Etter, Delta, Ohio

This story is one of my dad’s. For years, he wrote snippets of things about growing up on the prairies of North Dakota. This one is about the suddenness and strength of a prairie snowstorm. One nearby family lost three boys that got caught in it and couldn’t find their way home. The fourth survived, but lost a foot and some toes. I recently heard from his family that he passed away around Christmas last year.

Every winter we would get one or more blizzards. These were terrible things to behold unless you were snug in your house. To be caught out on the prairie was almost sure death. It wouldn’t have to snow very much, for the wind would churn what snow there was into fine particles not unlike talcum powder. It would choke you if you faced the wind with no cover over your face.

We would use binder twine to run lines from the house to the various out buildings, so we could find our way back if it got too bad. Most people kept a lighted lamp in the window at night in case anyone lost might see it.

On Saturday March 15, 1941, Dad had taken the horses and the enclosed sled that doubled as a school bus into town to pick up supplies. He learned that a snowplow would be clearing the road from town past our farm that evening. It was scheduled to leave town about 6:30 p.m.

Well, we had a truck with an enclosed box on it that we used as a school bus when the roads were open, but this truck had been buried in a snow drift about two miles north of town since an early December blizzard. So, Dad, Wally and I were going to take the horses and sled to meet the snowplow at the site of our buried truck. We figured the plow would get there around 8 p.m. Since we had no telephone, we had to estimate and hope.

 A little before 7 p.m., Wally and I went out to the barn to harness the horses. The weather was a balmy 35 degrees and cloudy. We hung the lantern up on a rafter and we were about to get the harness when there was a sudden crash of wind that we thought was going to take the barn down. The barn shuddered and squealed but remained intact.

We immediately looked out the door we had just entered – which was on the east end of the barn – and saw a mass of churning snow. The wind was from the west to northwest. We later learned the velocity of the wind to be between 85 to 100 mph. We couldn’t see the house or a light in the house window. Wally took the lantern and we started toward where we figured the house must be located.

I tried to hang on to his coat, but the wind and the choking snow was more than I could handle. The storm smothered the lantern so he dropped it and hung on to me.  We missed the house, but we bumped against a gatepost. The gate was open, so if we had been a foot to the left we would have passed through the gate and into miles of open country.

We followed the fence back to the garage, so we knew where we were, but we still couldn’t see the house about 20 feet away. We got our bearings and made it to the door where Dad and Mother hauled us in. We had snow under our coats and caps, under our shirts and pants, inside our socks. It was packed between my glasses and my face – no wonder I couldn’t see. We were very lucky, since it was so late in the season, we did not have a line from the barn to the house.