It is early in June that we again become besotted with light, the longer into the evening the better. The smell of honeysuckle and the sweet scent of locust have combined for heady perfumes and the pollen that torments those among us susceptible to allergies.

The time to cut hay is almost at hand, lady slippers, beach plum and wild roses are daily more evident. Sudden cluster of heart-stopping buttercups make mowing the lawn seem almost like a crime against nature. Bittersweet is reaching its tentacles upward, seeking to strangle its fellow flora.

And June is most perfectly here.