Looking out my study window, I see my neighbor and her daughter kneeling in their vegetable garden: leafy things, lettuce, spinach seem to be doing well, but the tomatoes are not yet there.
This morning, my baseball game ran from 9 til noon and I drank three quarts of Gatorade. It was hot enough I did not need to pee after three quarts, which meant, over the course of the game, I was three quarts down.
After the game, I took my bicycle down along Route 1 A, which hugs the sea coast. I had ridden this road hundreds of times, but had never taken the "Beach Access" streets in Rye until today. This provided something of a shock.
It was low tide at 3 PM and the side streets crossing 1A were jammed with cars and the owners and passengers of all those cars were on the sandy expanse on the other side of the cottages which line the road and block the view of the ocean and beaches. From Hampton through North Hampton through Rye, beaches were packed, but you could never tell it from the road. New Hampshire is unusual this way. You would never know how much humanity is flocking to that surf, traveling the coastal road.
There are berms and sea walls and even a walled off Beach Club, and coves, lots of coves, where bathers pick their way down the rocky banks to a strip of sand.
Some hardy souls, mostly New Hampshire natives I am sure, actually swim in the water, which is now warm enough to not turn white skin blue in under two minutes.
It stays light until almost 9 o'clock now and the sun is up by 5 AM.
I'm pretty sure winter is over.