Summer growing things spill into surplus – and fill our windowsills with the odds and ends of blooming abundance: a sunflower head, a sprig of peppermint, greens from the newly trimmed dwarf lilac. And I continue to collect and retrieve all these bits of beauty, squirreling up memories for the winter months ahead.
Taking
one more barefoot loop around the house I squish my feet down – all the
way – and wiggle the itchy grass between my toes, breathing deeply the
steamy smell of summer. I close my eyes and think as hard
as I can about this beauty – impressing it upon my soul, with details of
this joy, joy, joy to be alive and whole and able to lift my arms all
the way to the sky.
Hot, humid days warm my bones and ease my muscles and I inch toward every sunbeam in my path. Has there ever been such a glorious summer?! The
daily walks are now tinged with the vestiges of the sunrise and I gulp
down the beauty – stopping to look, with complete disregard for
maintaining my elevated heart rate. The deep salmon fuschia must surely be a cardiac tonic, even if the pharmaceutical companies don’t admit it.
To
be alive is a splendid thing, and I remember the days not long ago when
I did not quite believe it, but struggled to grow strong enough for
living to reach beyond my survival. I remember and I choose not to shudder. Perhaps winter will be long and cold and hard. Perhaps the worst has not yet been seen. But
today, this golden glorious August day, stands as evidence that spring
breaks the grip of cold – and reveals new growth that flourishes into
summers overflowing with green harvest.
And Joshua set up at Gilgal the twelve stones they had taken out of the Jordan. He said to the Israelites, "In the future when your descendants ask their fathers, 'What do these stones mean?' tell them, 'Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground
