As I mentioned in a previous post, his tiny black brethren, hatched days after he was, are nowhere to be seen - blown away by wind? Drowned by rain? Eaten by a bird? Don't know. Several times I have seen the Black Tiger Swallowtail flitting about the terrace, and it may not have been the same butterfly every time. So I expect more caterpillars.
I ate two of the last figs yesterday, and only one is left on the tree. Of the 105 we counted months ago, on June 21st, I would say that two thirds made it to ripeness. It seems a long, long time since I picked that first fig exactly one month later, on the 21st of July...I missed a dozen or so while we were in Rockport last week, but I dried them, and then ate them almost all at once. I know, I'm a pig.
So. The point is, what is wrong with the leaves? They have a mottled shadow that echoes the shape of each leaf, and it looks as though it may happen to every leaf. Do I blame it on the
Today: a story to write about fall flower alternatives (perennial) to the ubiquitous mums (that's chrysanthemums to non-American readers); then, cucumbers on the roof farm out; upland cress in, mesclun mix in, garlic in, too, though that will be a late season experiment. Interestingly, that garlic I pulled was also on June 21st, the summer's solstice.
September is five days away. One of the very best New York months.