Summer

It's here. Slow and grudging has been her arrival, but at last, summer is here. The lilacs in my backyard are in the midst of a riotous bloom. They're late, like everything else, most years their fragrant blossoms are long since gone by the first week of June. June? Feels a little odd because it's barely over a month since the last time I shoveled show from the driveway and sidewalk. And I realize I have this nagging little feeling I almost always have this time of year. Like I want to freeze-frame this day so it never ends. The cool afternoon rain that cleared into a glorious, sun-drenched evening. The smell of brats cooking on the grill. Having the windows open to the fresh breeze. Wearing sandals. Sitting out on the deck in my jammies and drinking that first cup of coffee. School's out and work is a very manageable 20-25 hours a week. I feel like the next three months are positively loaded with possibilities. Even though it's not likely I'll wander much farther than my own backyard. Which is okay. This summer, I have a feeling the adventure will come to me. Like a butterfly. I'll have to sit still just long enough for it to light on my shoulder. Having learned the virtues of how to be still, finding that balance between rushing off headlong into life when necessary and appreciating the joy of the quiet inside at other times is a blessing. I don't really need to freeze-frame this rare, nearly perfect June day. I just need to revel in it while it's here.