Backroads of Morrow County Update: Green July 1, 2015

Backroads of Morrow County Update:
Ah, the rain. Traveling the back roads these days can be hazardous. Creeks overflow; old bridges creak. Turning around is the wise choice. Morrow County does like its floods. Fortunately, The Swamp has not flooded my road again. I expected it to, but for now I do not have to go east and north in order to go south. Not that I mind the east south journey. I get to go over a couple one lane bridges, under a canopy of trees, past the acres of corn. The corn has long ago nullified the "knee high by the Fourth of July" mantra. In most places it is already head high. Beautiful, if you are in to deep green fields and symmetry. The soy beans too are growing "like crazy." The wheat is ready for harvest, but I doubt if any farmer can get into his fields for awhile--way too water logged. So the gold fades to amber and the amber to brown. Waiting for the touch of sunlight. Anticipating the attack of the monstrous green monsters.
Everything as you can imagine is green. There are a few places in the fields--low spots--that have been drowned. I don't think that the poor farmer who planted next to The Swamp is going to have much to harvest this year. The roadsides are adorned with a million orange day lilies. The blue chicory adds its loveliness in some spots. The Queen Anne's Lace is just starting to add its whiteness. The power lines are decorated with the redwings, mostly the males for some reason. Show offs I suppose. On rare occasions a meadowlark in his splendid yellow. A sparrow hawk on occasion. Mourning doves--always in twos. Swallows in gangs. Though I don't notice them on the wires, the goldblack of the finches often arcs it's way across the road especially in the wooded areas. The roads, as usual, are practically empty except for my little red wagon. Houses behind the fields are going into hiding until fall harvest. Green corn screens make them invisible except for the tall red barns with their shiny tin roofs--red, green, silver, even an occasional blue. If it ever dries out, the wheat fields will be gleaned, the hay will be mowed and rolled into the lovely wheels that I'm sure become field mice hotels. The silence of the backroads of Morrow County filled with bird song, "puddlelicous" as cummings would say, splattered with myriad colors, invaded by a small red machine inhabited by a chubby old bald man--such is life in the rain forests of Ohio during monsoon season.