Days of Summer
Summer is not always about the day, it is often about the transition into night, as one sits, relaxed after the heat of a relentless sun has depleted our vigor, which earlier had been ambition. The memory of last summer’s garden and the sweet smell of tomato plants and the lessening hum of many bees remind me that I am where I love to be, where I always long to be, in fact where I never want to leave. My garden is a never ending story of toil and thoughtfulness, sometimes a tender place where thoughtful moments serve to fertilize a frenzy of ideas, of hopes and of dreams. I am surrounded by an abundance of rudbeckia and zany zinnias, hundreds of them, some planted with my own hands, some planted at the discretion of families of wild birds, having indulged themselves in what can only be described as a banquet, seeds and sources of life waiting for the opportunity to be part of the earth, the ultimate source, the ultimate seed. Each year, like a kid in a candy store, I reach for a garden that still lives in its packages. The cashier carefully examines dozens of seed packages, finally placing a price on my soon-to-be garden. I carry my new friends home in haste, secure in a plain brown paper bag. Now I sit, in and among what will be my summer home, contemplating beds of lettuces and pots of strawberries, beets, squash, cucumbers, all familiar friends of months to come of sun and water and weeding. I sit here now, in my favorite place, in the place that always restores my soul, alone with my hopes, listening to the sound of children’s voices in the distance mixed with the sound of geese settling in for the night at the nearby lake. The muffled roar of a motorcycle as it races away and the barking of neighborhood dogs add resonance to the powerful sounds of the setting sun, There is the gentle flicker of the candle that I light each night in remembrance of my dad and here, on my lap, lays a warm, living, breathing, puppy that gives me peace. This is the end of my day; I will soon sleep and rest, and remember how good my life really is. I thank my maker. Good night.