The name of June comes from the Roman goddess of marriage- Juno, and because of this June is traditionally seen as the best month to be married in;
' Married in the month of roses-June,
Life will be one long honeymoon'.
The Anglo-saxons called it Sera monath ( dry month- Let's hope!).
'A calm June puts the farmer in tune', or 'June damp and warm does the farmer no harm'.
'Mist in May and heat in June
Bring all things into tune'.
Special days in June.
June 11th- St Barnabas' day.
June 21st- Summer Solstice.
June 24th-Mid-summer day.
June 29th-Saint Peters' day.
June- Francis Duggan.
"It's beautiful the Summer month of June
When all of God's own wildflowers are in bloom
And sun shines brightly most part of the day
And butterflies o'er lush green meadows play.
Light hearted skylark songster of the wing
High o'er the quiet and lonely moorland sing
Above her nest cloaked by the tangled heath
Her charming song so exquisitely sweet.
So mellow the gentle breath of june day breeze
The birds rejoicing on the leafy trees
And dappled trout in pool bed of the stream
Bask in the sun their spotted skins agleam."
A beautiful first day of the month, hope it continues! Walked up over the hills towards Llangeview. There are some fantastic wild meadows on the hills that were full with wildflowers; common bugle, buttercup, forget-me-not,clover, sorrel, birdsfoot trefoil, yellow rattle, and many more, and because of this the fields were full of butterflies too. There were many ravens out above the hill croaking loudly and obviously enjoying flying in such a lovely sky. Back along the Olway brook, caught sight of a kingfisher again- a fast turquoise flash skirting along the sunny bank.
|Illustration available here|
The Kingfisher- William Henry Davies
It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,
And left thee all her lovely hues;
And, as her mother’s name was Tears,
So runs it in my blood to choose
For haunts the lonely pools, and keep
In company with trees that weep.
Go you and, with such glorious hues,
Live with proud peacocks in green parks;
On lawns as smooth as shining glass,
Let every feather show its marks;
Get thee on boughs and clap thy wings
Before the windows of proud kings.
Nay, lovely Bird, thou art not vain;
Thou hast no proud, ambitious mind;
I also love a quiet place
That’s green, away from all mankind;
A lonely pool, and let a tree
Sigh with her bosom over me.