Mayflies, wild black razzies, and the return of the prodigal (?) son.

Last night, as we approached the Salt Fork on the way home from town, we were surprised as a swirling cloud of diaphanous, pale creatures enveloped the car. Mayflies, intent on their annual mating ritual, filled the air where the road drops to cross the river. Females skimmed the surface of the water laying newly fertilized eggs in a frenzied burst of fecundity in this last stage of their year-long lives.

Alex is coming home from New Mexico today! He taught Biology in Gallup over the last school year, and he plans to go back for another year this fall. Just in time for Alex's arrival (and his 30th birthday), the wild black raspberries are ready to pick. I've seen lots of ripening berries on my walks, and I sampled the first of what looks like a bumper crop yesterday afternoon. The flavor is an indescribable concentration of the bright, sweet lushness of late spring in Central Illinois.