Attasquash

With surprise I recognize
that summer squash is in the bag
that hits the table with distinctive sound
no more describable than the subtle taste
of this elegant vegetable lightly cooked,
lightly spiced. Clear yellow radiance of
abundance on my silver fork outshines
the hot nasturtium colors shimmering
with butterflies in the garden.

Attasquash, crookneck, Cucurbito pepo--
such dismissive and ridiculous names
for so delicate a vegetable
ephemeral in its young perfection.
Are we so beguiled by sweet young things
that we laud the strawberry and peach,
all but ignoring unassertive squash?
Ask the old and overlooked among us.

I love this week in August. The fullness thereof! Big fat bumblebees know that my squash are in bloom. Behind them, the wild goldenrods are attracting many jewel-colored tiny wasps and flies. Along the roadsides white flat-topped asters and several species of goldenrods and even silverrod are in bloom and the whole roadside flutters with spangled fritillary butterflies. In the milkweeds the Monarchs are pupating in their green jewel cases. What a wealth!

Years ago we had a very tame snowshoe hare with a white blaze on its forehead. We called it Star. Now we have a youngster with a white blaze and a similar engaging personality. We call it StarChild and we do think it is probably a descendent.  When fall comes and the hare starts to to turn tweed and then white we will no longer be able to see the blaze. By then of course we claim that the tame bunny just must be StarChild.