Whilst I say spring is my favourite season, it is summer I like to hang on to.
It is not the heat which has been constant.
It is the light, the long days,
the permission, or so it seems
to slow down
to have some fun
to spend time outdoors.
Of course we can do that at anytime, even in summer one is dodging heat and summer storms. But there is something about the good old summertime; how it races through July and August, leaving one quite surprised we are winding down.
Now I know a lot of folk who love September, the cooler nights, a season of new beginnings.
I heard a lovely quote recently, which said for every ending there is a new beginning. So I try to shake off my melancholy as the summer fades. A new season is around the corner.
September holds for me some beautiful memories… and some very sad ones. We all have significant dates that seem to be imprinted in our bodies, that can jog our memories to joy or grief.
Thus is the cycle of life, a time to be born, a time to die. The book of Ecclesiastes says it well, and fits my melancholy mood. There is also a time for joy, and I believe gratitude is the birthplace of joy.
So I lift up thanks for this ebbing summer, for all the gifts it has brought. There have been many memorials this year, saying goodbyes to those we loved while celebrating their lives and gifts to us.
How I’ve enjoyed the gift of garden this year, the miracle of new life, and the reality that it is messy, filled with hard work, and lessons learned from success and failure.
The sunflower sings for a few days, this last song of summer, and then will droop and fade, leaving the gifts of seed and another tomorrow.