Though the days are becoming shorter and the morning air hints of autumn, summertime calls my name. This season, painted with bright colors on generous canvases, is still enticing me with its allure of abundance and growth, of joy and lightheartedness.
I’m paying attention to teachings I’ve received from my garden: how to grow wild and unencumbered by rules and boundaries, how to overflow and out-glow expectations, how to bow to the sun and glisten in the rain, how to wait patiently for the perfect time to blossom and listen carefully for the call to harvest.
I’ve just completed the painting of my daughter’s bedroom, which is yellow and blue and filled with the essence of picnics and merriment. At the same time, I’m deeply engaged in learning this beautiful feminine way of creating transformation (see Dancing the Feminine), and bursts of inspiration are ushering in my women’s circles. The season is still enchanting me to grow myself and to blossom into my fullness.
No doubt, I sense the waning of summer. I hear a faint call to lean into those gentle winds of change that coax me inward.
I'm preparing my garden soil with a cover crop of red clover and buckwheat, knowing that this nourishing act will offer support for the coming season. I pack away pesto and blueberries in my freezer ~ reminders of a summer lived fully.
And I offer gratitude to this season of the south, for its bounteous gifts, its vibrant color, its invitation to expand, to reach, perhaps to challenge, and for all its energies that bless me in ways I cannot know.