Once upon a time, our quiet little hamlet ran smoothly. Most citizens didn’t know or care about what transpired in the Town Hall’s halls. Registering to vote and attending the Town Meeting, which was held upstairs in the auditorium, was about the only time they entered the place. Elected officials, most part-time, went about their business with ne’er a mention of controversy.

            Unlike today, nobody assumed elected officials were corrupt, up to no good, scoundrels, or were scheming to feather their nest. I can promise you that when I was an elected official, I was not a crook. It appears that is not the case anymore … er, not me, I am still not a crook.

            Unlike state and federal elections, no one runs for office be it selectperson, herring inspector, or fence viewer (do we still have a fence viewer?) on a party platform. No Democrats, no Republicans, no Libertarians, Green Party, or any other label. Just citizen.

            There is a buzz around town that a new controversy is brewing in our seat of government, a regular bee-gate so to speak. It may be a sign of the times but according to published reports one local political party committee has a bee in their bonnet because one town official allegedly utilized the fire department to remove a bee’s nest from high up on a tree on their own property.

            Back when the town was that quiet little hamlet, this would not have sparked a hornet’s nest of debate. The political party committee has suggested that this action was “a misuse and abuse of public funds and resources,” and is illegal according to the state’s “Standards of Conduct” statute.

            I wonder if the furry animal were a pussy cat, would there be any uproar. Just recently a resident reported on our local social-network page that their pretty kitty had climbed a tall tree and refused to come down. They called the fire department. Alas, the fuzzball was too high to be rescued. Presumably it climbed down on its own.

            Just where does a bee stand on the hierarchy of the animal kingdom. Is a bee not worthy of the same consideration of a cat? Bees provide valuable service to mankind. They pollinate our plants. Where would we be without bees? What does a cat do? Nothing. They just lay around and pose for all those cat videos on YouTube. As a friend pointed out to me, a dog, for example, has a master, a cat has staff. Where does a bee stand?

            If your precious feline climbed a tree and wouldn’t come down, who would you call? Ghostbusters won’t come. Cat removal from trees has traditionally been a service of the fire department because they have long ladders. According to firedeptfamily.com, some departments carry pet oxygen masks in case the tree is on fire, which I expect is rare. Should bees not get the same courtesy?

            If a town official’s dog went missing (lost dogs seem to be a frequent occurrence in town), would it be an abuse to call animal control and ask for the dog officer to be on the lookout? They’re a town department, too.

            I know what you are thinking. I should buzz off. It is none of my beeswax!

            Mattapoisett resident Dick Morgado is an artist and happily retired writer. His newspaper columns appeared for many years in daily newspapers around Boston.

Thoughts on…

By Dick Morgado

‘Now is the springtime of our discontent, made glorious summer’ by a hot dry spell. Pardon the Shakespeare quip but it occurred to me that a “glorious summer” would be a fine thing about now. What are the chances of that happening?

            If you haven’t been keeping count, we just had the 13th rainy Saturday… a record-breaker. (1943 and 1970 logged 12 straight wet Saturdays.) Needless to say, for those of us who work all week, this trend is downright disheartening. My penchant for positivity wonders if Mother Nature might offer a sunny disposition for the summer season.

            I’m hoping that by discussing it here, it will change… It’s no secret that Mother Nature’s been a bit off this spring – to put it lightly. I have implored Alexa (my personal assistant from Amazon) more frequently lately for the weather forecast, hoping to hear something different. But the answer is much the same from her as it is on my weather app. It goes something like… “sunshine will give way to rain” or words like “chance of showers.”

            That’s been the refrain for spring and the repetition is pushing us to the super saturation point. “April showers turned into May showers and June showers too,” said my witty colleague, Matthew Rodriguz. He, along with all New Englanders, take it in stride. What else can you do?

            We have gloried in a few moments of sunshine this spring but found it sadly short-lived. More often I played around with the thermostat to regain my warm-bloodedness. Or packed a sweater just in case. I actually did a double-take the other day as to what time of year it is and recalling how it was in days of old. Midsummer equals placid temps and dry warm air. So, what gives?

            The Old Farmer’s Almanac is predicting hot and dry conditions across the majority of the country throughout the summer. Only the southernmost tip of Florida, the Pacific Northwest, and the southern half of Alaska will face cooler-than-usual temperatures. The Northeast will have a hot, rainy, wet summer with high humidity. Just like a fortune cookie, it’s open to interpretation. We’ll get what we get.

            So as not to overreact, I ponder how other cultures deal with inclement weather. In England, where my husband is from (and particularly the north of England where blue sky is a rarity) fog and drizzle are the norm. You hang the washing out on the line and it’s wetter when you collect it. It can seem gloomy and cold to those of us who are used to a regular dose of sunshine, but the English never get discouraged.

             “After a week of sun, the newspapers say there’s a drought”, laughs my husband Kevin. When the weather forecasts call for “bright periods and sunny spells “ he quips “Is that for two minutes or five?” Yes, but the English are accustomed to their weather – it’s a normal part of life and they manage to thrive in spite of it. It all goes back to what you’re used to.

            I have been weighing the minuses and pluses of the situation. Right now, I’m sick of the squishy lawn, the preponderous number of large weeds and the deprivation in general of warm sunshine. We can expect to see an increase in aphids, slugs, snails and fungal disease, not to mention the water damage to plants, especially root rot on daylilies and hydrangeas. I noted the leaf spotting of my spinach and annuals and will fully expect to deal with black spot on my roses. Landscaping which is usually going full throttle this time of year and especially programs like spraying, must wait for the dry days or less intensely wet days.

            And yet there are positives. For one, the phenomenal tree growth. Aquifers filling up. The yard is greener than ever and the scents of all the flowers of spring combined with the bird song are even more vibrant when it’s wet outside. In fact, the color is denser whereas the sun has a tendency to bleach out the detail.

            The gray drizzly day gives us an opportunity to slow down the pace. Painting projects will halt and so will baseball practice (sometime). It gives us pause to rediscover the process of life, growth and renewal and to embrace the world outside in a softer, gentler light.

            When Kevin returned home from England last summer, he didn’t talk about the drizzle or the gray skies that England is notorious for, but rather the more rare and glorious occurrences of sun. That is a lesson we can learn from the sun-deprived: Celebrate the positives or at the least learn to live with it. “You just go out and work. You can’t wait,” says Kevin. “They cut the grass and cut their hedge if it’s raining or not. They’d even do it in a sou’wester. There really isn’t much to stop them.”

            So, I’ll stop pestering Alexa and go clean the attic. That is bound to bring the sun out!

            “It’s raining… raining in my heart.” Buddy Holly.

The Seaside Gardener

By Laura McLean