We Are Not Good At Summer

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We are not good at summer until it’s almost over. Not until the trees give up their fruit and meadows of tall grass are swaying ~ not until the heat bakes us to our core and we catch ourselves daydreaming of a sweater on a crisp autumn day~then we look around and truly see the lush late summer that brushes our legs.

Not until then do we stop to inhale the perfumed air thick with lavender, tomato, geranium and rosemary grown beyond their designated garden spaces. We re-learn this love for summer every year- surprised again at the way the full August moon pulls open our hearts and the evening heat caresses our cheek like a long lost lover.

Stepping over the invisible line of 55 years drawn down for me by time just two days ago, I stand and breathe and look in wonder at the life in bloom around me and just a bit sad for all the June and July moments of my life that I missed while busy planning and rushing to gather things I would need to live.

Today, I hold a wide open gardenia to my nose and the heady fragrance fills me up. I am here now. Present. Open. Conscious. Today, I will begin to be good at summer.