In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes*; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?



Shades of Summer

August, like a late afternoon, follows quietly the peak of summer heat.  We are just beginning to weary of summer, to take for granted the security of warm sunshine.  Almost I spend too much time indoors, when I ought to be savoring this last hot month.  For already the evenings dip into chill, the windows are left open, breezes flip-flapping at my curtain, and I pull the ship quilt over my sheets at night.  Gently we are reminded that summer is waining, and that soon the days also will be cool.  However much I look forward to the crisp clarity of autumn weather, I still feel a pang of something akin to regret as these August days roll in.  Did I notice the shades of summer, each change of this season?  Did I appreciate these sun-drenched days, those rain-pattered and thunder-dotted moments?  Was I grateful enough for this beauty?  No.  Always there is more, always more to see and love and savor.  But I have enjoyed it greatly; I have revelled in the sunshine and the breezes whipping my hair, I have listened for the cicadas and crickets, smiled at the flit of the gold-finches as they finally found our feeder.  We swam, we had some time in boats and being pulled by them, we had parties, we saw fireworks and fireflies, we played games until we were sore and well-tanned.  But still my gratitude falls short of what it aught to be, and I catch myself going too fast again, to give proper thanks to the Father of creation, giver of all delights.

So I'm trying to slow down a bit, and not let my artistic thoughts get so dreamy that I don't see the art in nature and every-day.  The varying colors of sky and trees from one window as I climb the stairs, the growing and blooming of my moss-roses and geraniums in my window-box, and the zinnias in the garden; nighthawks croaking outside my window, rowan berries coming out on the trees, loons on the lake as I fly by...

I do plan to post more pictures and things soon, but at present I can't find my camera, which makes the whole business a bit difficult, if you see what I mean.  I miss this place, though, and can't wait to get back to regular posting.  The picture at the top is of my window garden a few weeks ago, complete with my mini-birdbath I got one Christmas.  (I love the little brown birdies!) 

Adieu for now, my friends; and fare well wherever you fare!


Julian said...

Olivia, what a beautiful post! To slow down and savour! Thankyou for the much needed reminder. How ive missed your posts! (ive been checking every day) love your window gatden with the sweet little bird bath. The ship quilt,lucky girl! Blessings,pleeease come to us,your dear readers,VERY soon! I pray you find your camera!

Kat said...

Lovely to see you here, sister.
Your window garden is so beautiful!

Jodi said...

I think you say so beautifuly what some souls may feel but can't put into words. I imagine you could write and illustrate a nature diary as was done long ago. And you window box is enchanting.