Tuesday, September 16th

I WAS WOKEN at six by the gentle ripple of what I think must have been an owl’s cry as it flew past. It is quite unlike any other bird sound. It is wonderful to wake up now knowing I have a clear day ahead and can walk to my own rhythm, not hurrying. This afternoon I intend to put up tomatoes … I simply couldn’t bear the rich accumulations yesterday lying in a flat basket on the kitchen counter; so I went to Lesswings and found the wire stand for boiling. I can use the lobster pot. I’ve never done this before, so it is an adventure.

Anne and Barbara came for supper … a great reunion, as we haven’t seen each other for two months, and there was so much to talk about, to hear and tell, the time simply fled. We had steak for dinner, ratatouille I had made on Sunday, mushrooms (two immense ones I found as I came back yesterday from my walk with Tamas), little potatoes, and an American wine I wanted to try, Great Western’s Chelois. It is a little thin compared to French wines, but the aftertaste is delicious.

Of course, we walked all around the garden first. Anne is one person who comes here who always notices everything I have done. Luckily the gentians are still beautiful in a little corner which has a heather and a heath in it too, and later on will have lavendar colchicum. We went to take a look at the single closed gentian Raymond noticed near the apple orchard—such a thrill! Mary-Leigh in an orange jacket came slowly creeping along on her huge mower, trying it out. It is bright orange, and she looked extremely decorative sitting on it.

But the best was after we came in and stood for minutes watching the birds at the feeder from the porch window … such a flurry of wings coming and going, and so many birds these days! We saw the two pairs of nuthatches, white- and rose-breasted, chickadees, house finches, goldfinches, a towhee on the ground, a thrush in one of the cherry trees, a vireo and a migrating warbler, greenish-yellow, jays, of course. This morning I caught a glimpse of an immature rose-breasted grosbeak in the pine tree, trying to get up courage to join the other birds at the feeder.

After supper we sat by the fire and talked about the farm they hope to buy in two years when Anne’s children have left home. How lovely it will be if they are near by! They brought potatoes (rare jewels this year of a bad harvest everywhere) and left with two of the cinerarias I have been growing under lights. They are rich and sturdy with big leaves, but I expect it will be two months before they flower.