But the flowers were now at their peak of blossom - Joe-Pye weed, last buttonball blooms, loosestrife, false boneset, many varieties of sunflowers, bouncing Bet – around which the sphinx moths foraged, wild balsam apples, milkweed, butterfly weed, bindweed, wild wisteria, self-heal, wood sage, hooded skullcap, wild bergamotte, monkey flowers, Beaumont’s root, basilweed, and others. – August Derleth

The Planets of August

Venus and Jupiter are the Morning Stars this month, rising after midnight in the east. Venus is the brighter of the two. Mars is the Evening Star, visible at the end of the day in the west with Virgo.

The Peach Pie Moon is new on Aug. 23. The moon enters its second quarter on Sept. 1.

The Weather Outlook

This is the week that frost becomes possible in the northern states; snow even occurs at the upper elevations in the Rocky Mountains and in Canada. Here in the Midwest, the third major high-pressure system of the month brings chances of highs in the 70s a full 40 percent of the time on Aug. 24, the first time since July 6 that odds have been so good for milder weather.

As that cool front moves east, the period from Aug. 25-27 usually brings a return of warmer temperatures in the 80s or 90s. The 26th, 27th, 28th and 29th each carry a 30 percent chance of highs in the 90s, and the 25th and 26th are the last days of the year on which there is only a 10 to 15 percent chance of mild weather in the 70s.

On the 28th, however, the final cool wave of August approaches, and even though chances of 90s remain strong, the likelihood for chilly highs only the 60s or 70s jumps to 30 percent. Aug. 30 is typically the coldest day of the month, and it brings a 50 percent chance of a high just in the 70s, the first time chances of that have been so good since the last day of June.

Nights in the 40s or 50s continue to occur an average of 40 percent of the time, and the morning of the 29th brings the slight possibility (a 5 percent chance) of light frost, for first time since the beginning of June. Chances of rain are typically 35 percent per day now, with the exception of Aug. 28, on which date thunderstorms cross the region 65 percent of the years in my record. The 25th and 26th are usually the sunniest days this week.

Phenology

When all the summer apples have been picked, then the first puffball mushroom of the year swells in cool, damp nights, and the wood thrush moves south across the Ohio River.

When there is more than one Judas maple tree in the woodlot, then hickory nutting season gets underway. When red leaves appear on the Virginia creeper in Kentucky, then snow threatens gardens in central Canada.

When the last of the garden phlox die back, then ragweed time winds down and the year’s final tier of wildflowers is budding: beggarticks, bur marigolds, asters, zigzag goldenrod.

When dogbane pods turn reddish brown in the fields, then wood nettle has gone to seed under the high canopy.

When elm trees start to turn, then mallards are flying south. Whip-poor-wills, cedar waxwings and catbirds follow.

When greenbrier berries are black, then prickly mallow blooms along the fencerows and almost all the oats crop is cut. When arrowhead blooms in the waterways, then pale Asian lady beetles have begun their late-summer migration.

The Natural Calendar

Judas trees betray the Christ of summer, patches of gold showing on the Osage and cottonwoods and poplars and maples, kisses of scarlet on creeper and poison ivy. Panicled dogwood has its first white berries. Dogbane pods have grown to10 inches now and a few are turning red. Wood nettle, tall nettle and small-flowered agrimony have gone to black seeds. Buckeye leaves are browning, walnut trees weathering and shedding. Redbuds and burning bush are blushing. Mint has reached the close of its cycle, teasel is complete, and coneflowers are fading.

The house-shaped star group, Cepheus, has moved into the middle of the sky by midnight, marking the start of Early Fall. To the east of Cepheus, find the zigzag formation of Cassiopeia, followed by Perseus (looking vaguely like a horse) rising in the northeast. The Big Dipper continues to hug the northern horizon throughout the night.

Almanack Literature

A Terrible Outhouse Afternoon

By Willy O’Holleran, Cincinnati, Ohio

Here was the situation. My wife and I had just bought this gentleman’s farm in rural southern Indiana. Actually, it was not such a gentlemanly farm; in fact, it was all run down, and parts of it were falling apart.

Now there was an outhouse, a big four-holer, kind of close to the main house, and it needed so much repair that I decided it would have to come down.

“It’s really kind of cute,” my wife said, but I said that it wasn’t cute enough to fix up. So, one afternoon when she and her sister went shopping at the mall in Cincinnati, I decided to tear down the four holer and save some of the lumber for repairs to the chicken coop.

So, I got my new crowbar and hammer, pulled open the outhouse door, walked in and fell right through the rotten floor.

On the way down, I knew I was in trouble. Deep trouble. That is because I was going down headfirst. I put out my hands to break the fall. That worked a little, and I managed to spin around just a bit so that I landed all twisted up instead of on my head, on a whole bunch of trash that people had tossed down the holes through the years.

Things could have been worse, I thought to myself. But then I realized they were getting worse by the second. My right leg and left arm were beginning to hurt, and I couldn’t move my fingers on my left hand, and I was wedged in a strange kind of way so that when I tried to sit upright my leg went into all kinds of pain.

Well, there it was. How long did my wife shop? Forever. How long did it take her to find me? Even longer. How long was it before the rescue squad could lift me out? Even longer. How long did it take for my broken bones to heal? Even longer still. How long did we farm in the gentleman’s fashion? Not very long.