Frontyard Blooms

My summer officially starts tomorrow with the lighting of our Solstice fire. I like to think I align like that, all celestial and heavenly, but even if it’s total coincidence, I’m claiming the divine timing. Regardless of when my summer or yours starts, it is certainly time to exhale, stroll around the yard, peer into the blooms, discover what is needed to remember yourself as a creative, healthy, strong adventurous being. How about your summer goals?  How do you plan to connect to you?

Yellow is a color I can easily forget but once I see it realize how much it feeds me. Yellow is joy and light and nourishing even when pale. Yellow reminds me to reach for a peach, to walk in the morning, to smile even as I stand alone. I never wear yellow but right about now, that feels like something I might need to remedy. What is your color this summer? What nourishes you?

yellow flowers

Despite the fact that this house doesn’t belong to us, we have made a home. Mostly with our art and heirlooms but by planting flowers too. On sunny summer afternoons our whole yard is part of our living space. We drag the lawn furniture from spot to spot to stay in those rays until last light. No longer confined by four walls, we are out front on the porch or lawn, or out back on the deck. Planters and hanging baskets pop with living colors. Garden beds too. Passing neighbors wave or stop over. We adventure without stepping beyond the grass. Our whole living space gets bigger in summer. Breezy. How do you expand into your summer freedom?

Summer allows us to dive down into the smallest pleasures. Ripe strawberries. Snap peas. Green that draws your eye into the center of each leaf. Although summer can be (and I do love when it is) a time to travel far and wide, it can easily be an afternoon spent on your back in the grass eyes up under the canopy of branches crisscrossing overhead. Reflective osmosis. Gradually hearing that small voice that one doesn’t notice during their fast paced living. Only when all else falls away. Mine is reminding me to shut out the chaos. What is your summer voice whispering to you?

One of my favorite summer perches is the front steps. This is one of those houses where the front door is ornamental, so we enter via the porch, where muddy or snowy or wet footwear are left. This front stoop is the perfect spot in the morning sun or the afternoon shade with a cup of tea watching the world drive by while I just sit. Not that I’m not ready to run or bike or hike or swim or move too, but the time to relax and do a bit of nothing is worth taking. Where will you find a space to do nothing this summer? A little moment void of meaning unless you count a hiatus as something. I for sure will be doing that. Counting empty moments are something sacred.

Summer is the chance to be aware of something delicate, something sweet smelling and light and fleeting that demands your immediate and lingering attention. Drop the cell chats. Stop the Netflix. Look down and across and around and up. Spy those winged beings who share your tree. They are fleeting guests who may not come this way again. Listen to that lovely song and try to memorize their trill. Fill your mind with all these priceless gifts like the hummingbird’s brief visit.

Seek out a new vantage this summer. A narrow and often overlooked path that might lead to a new perspective. This whole full and extraordinarily fragrant hedge of french lilacs brought me to walk along this side of my home, and once there I could only breath. I felt drunk on scent. Felt so overwhelmed with my good fortune. This pale lavender under this deep blue and all surrounded by green. Yes, I live in a pretty place, but it is only by noticing that we come to know that for ourselves. What is your summer beauty?

Join me in finding all the possibilities beside your front door. And do tell me what you discover. I’ll be listening.

 

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