Do you know the writer Alice Hoffman? She writes in a very lyrical, poetic way and her books usually employ magical realism. Flowers grow or shrivel at alarming rates, turn colours, etc..., people speak like birds, sometimes pebbles or fish appear in their pockets-well, you get the idea. It's quite entrancing.
The summer that wasn't (i.e. THIS summer), has made me feel a little bit like I'm living in an Alice Hoffman novel (or maybe a gentle version of one). Endless rain and thunderous, dramatic clouds. Wind storms tearing the roofs off houses in certain parts of the province. Puny vegetables. The grass growing so quickly we can almost hear it. Swarms of insects. Bats.
And other things too.
My husband was coming home late one evening and saw this unusual phenomenon over the bridge in the neighbouring town.
There were clouds of insects around the streetlights, and the bridge was covered with piles of bug carcasses, enough to make the bridge slick and slippery, and looking for all the world like snow. Creepy mysterious summer snow.
Closeup of bug carcasses. Maybe someone knows what kind these are.
A shadow shot of my intrepid reporters (see how white the pavement appears?).
Because sometimes we all need a break from flowers, cats and horses.
And now, back to regular programming.
P.S. If you haven't read Alice Hoffman, give her a try. You won't regret it. Her books are not without humour-of the black variety, of course!