Well… It’s already two weeks later. And despite all my good intentions to post more often on Hive, many other things have come up again. I can relate, I think. There’s always something waiting that feels just a little more urgent – ​​and before you know it, you’re already halfway through a new month. Still, I’ll keep trying to share something regularly, because these moments deserve to be captured. So here I am, with a few little summer pieces from our lives.

Bumblebees On The Lavender

First of all, this beautiful scene: a bumblebee, busy on the lavender. An image that always makes me happy. But also one that stands out to me extra this year, precisely because I see so few insects. Where are the bees? The hoverflies? The butterflies? Everything seems scarce. And I can see that in the garden now. Our tomato plants are full of flowers – that’s going well – but tomatoes? No way. Nothing is happening. No fruit set. And I’m starting to suspect that this is due to a lack of pollination. No insects, no tomatoes. It’s bizarre how quiet it is in the garden in terms of buzzing. And to be honest, quite worrying.

Bright Green Balls of Potential

Fortunately, I also found a silver lining: the walnut tree surprised me. I suddenly discovered a few walnuts-in-the-making among the greenery. And that was honestly worth a little jump for joy. The past two years, we had hardly had a harvest. Each time we hoped for a good nut year, but time and time again it was disappointing. And so this year, I had given up hope. But look, there they are. Two bright green balls full of potential. No guarantee, of course. But a little miracle that makes me cautiously happy.

Climate Change?

What made these weeks especially characteristic? The heat. It was almost 40 degrees outside here – and that’s no joke. Normally, I spend a lot of time outside with Skipper, but this time we had to act differently. No air conditioning in the house, so it was a matter of closing all the curtains, closing the windows during the day, and trying to keep things livable inside. In the end, that didn’t work; the temperature still rose despite all our efforts. It went slowly, but eventually it was almost 27 degrees inside. And such a heat inside is not pleasant, and it normally stays that way for a long time.

Skipper remained remarkably calm.

He senses these kinds of things well. He seeks out the shade in the garden, never lies in the full sun, and has no excessive urge to play or walk when it is hot. That also makes it a bit easier for me to keep him inside and keep things a bit calm.

Last night, the cooling finally came. Rain and thunderstorms passed over, and in less than 12 hours the outside temperature dropped by more than 25 degrees. I thought that was quite extreme - and maybe it just is. Climate change or not, these are strange jumps. Fortunately, it is now also a bit more pleasant inside. We were able to open everything up last night and today it is actually bearable.

Plucking And Brushing

And in the meantime? I took the opportunity to help Skipper with his moult. That undercoat has to come out, especially at these temperatures. It’s almost therapeutic, all that plucking and brushing. And Skipper loves it too. He relaxes, lets it happen – and I don’t even have to force him to do it. Halfway through, there was half a dog’s worth of wool on the floor, but he looked a lot more airy. And hopefully he feels that way too.

Still, it’s remarkable how differently dogs deal with heat. Our Lana would always trot on with her ball, even at these temperatures of over 35 degrees, she wouldn’t have stopped. She didn’t know how to stop. She was tireless, but with her, I just had to put the brakes on on days like that; she would overheat herself without noticing. Skipper is so different in that respect. He senses it much better. He seeks out shade himself, stays very calm, and doesn’t insist on anything. He doesn’t need to play; he’s content with just being outside or inside together. As long as we do it together. He seems to understand it instinctively: it’s hot, so we take it easy. That makes it easier for me, too. With him, I don't have to constantly set boundaries or slow him down. He does it himself. And that gives peace, for both of us.

Lesson From My Dog

At the same time, it also feels like some kind of a mirror. Skipper teaches me, without words, to move more with nature. To slow down the pace when necessary.

To not always do, but sometimes just be.

To lie down, to breathe, to do nothing for a while. In this time when everything has to be so fast, when we often run past ourselves, that is perhaps the most beautiful thing a dog can teach you. I don't know when my next blog will be online, it could be in a few days, it could easily take another two weeks ... we'll see.