It’s summer. Again.
Without warning, the sun is uncomfortably hot. By day there’s a constant mower hum nearby. By night, the fireflies begin to glow. The extra May showers following those in April, invite a plethora of swarming bugs keeping us from comfortably enjoying our secret garden. Alas, the nightly bat patrol is enjoying a feast.
Summer is my least favorite season. It always has been. I love the beginning of school in autumn. I excitedly await the first sparkles of snow. I’m giddy with every spring bud and bloom and the magic of the magnolia tree.
And summer? It’s just hot.
Anticipating the forecasted rising temperature, I decide to take advantage of the morning breeze and take myself for a walk. My bag lightly packed with a notebook, pen, and ice water with a splash of raspberry lemonade for fun. I grabbed a little cash, just in case.
I find a shady spot in the Meadow at the Beach Museum of Art. It’s quiet on a summer day. The pace slow, except for the humming mowers and a few passersby.
I spy a robin resting near me, listening to the singsong trill of the Carolina Wren. He flies to high branches of the silver maple across from me. He is silent and still, as if listening again to the murmurs of the tree.
I wonder what stories of summer the silver maple knows. Memories being sent through the summer breeze. Gold and auburn secrets eventually fall with autumn winds and disintegrate under winter’s weight.
I wonder who has picnicked in its shade. Who might have sat in the cradle of its branches, dreaming of summer adventures or shedding tears of lost love or unknown despair? Have there been children, or teenaged sweethearts spinning around the trunk playing catch me if you can?
And then I’m startled to see the summer’s first monarch dance across the wildflowers still growing into their bloom. She is too far for me to clearly see her patterned, silky wings and instantly disappears beyond the Meadow. But wait! It’s too soon. Did I only imagine a wish of her to signal summer’s end?
I shake my hair wildly to disrupt the buzzing of gnats and bugs invading my peace, until I suddenly realize that it is I who invade their space.
The air begins to get heavy as the sun reaches its height.
I take note of my pleasure being alone in the comfort of the shade. No one asking anything of me. Nowhere to be except where I am.
It then becomes clear. This is the summer I have always desired.
With loving wishes,
Amy
The real time shift that happened in the writing of this, and the aha moment makes this wonderfully alive. I am shifting with you
Ahhh, what a great take on summer! A helpful perspective for me to try on as well.💜