IN THE SUMMERTIME
In the summertime, when the weather is hot, you can stretch right up and touch the sky.—Mungo Jerry
Summer is here, officially or no.
The once-boisterous peafowl and mockingbirds are quietly caring for their young. The sweet orchid trees and jasmine that scented my bicycle commute have been succeeded by poinsianas and purple plumes of jacaranda. The flowering weeds of red and yellow that covered the parkways are now feathery globes of white.
The concert season is at an end, and we will miss terribly sushi-and-wine picnics at the Wallcast, delightful opera recitals, sublime chants in church candlelight.
Likewise, we are at the end of weather for walking to church; I have loved sharing the way with a brother or friend, talking leisurely about the sermon and Sunday school classes and stuff. It's curious, how the rhythm of walking draws out thought
happy concert faces
Summer has its own charms, however. I have a new bathing suit {a lovely skirted thing of tangerine and tropical flowers} which I intend to take often to the beach. I have a play to learn and perform for the church dinner theater. I have a church dance to call one Friday night. I have a syllabus and lesson plans to complete for teaching Latin Form I and A Midsummer Night's Dream in the fall. I have an education community to help organize before the end of the year, as well as the discussion group to keep up. I have a belly-dance level to conquer. I have a birthday party to plan, because I am all of a quarter century{!} this year.
‘How are you? How’s the family?’
‘Busy, but it’s all good.’
It hasn’t all been good, but I think there’s always been beauty and joy to find.
• I’m mixing pleasure with pleasure on the first beach trip of the season, getting ready to lead another discussion meeting while enjoying the ocean breeze and my favorite summer songs. •
June 10, 2016