After a week of cool, wet weather with low temperatures in the 50s overnight, the Midwest summer has hit Wisconsin. My garden is thick with arugula, and the tomato plant is growing at the rate of a jungle vine. The heat index today is in the danger zone with a high temperature of 92 degrees Fahrenheit and humidity at 78%.
I refuse to turn on the air-conditioner in the house; I have none in my car. I rely on all those passive techniques my mother taught me when we were living in the 1875 Victorian in the Chicago suburbs. I don’t have an attic here; this is a Lannon stone ranch-style house. I open all the windows and the front door at night to let in the cool air and shut everything up when the sun rises in the morning. I have a box fan in the living/dining room, no ceiling fans.
Steve converses about Buddhist mindfulness. What does it feel like in this weather? Without judgement, accepting what is, what do I notice?
The trees are swaying outside my window. As hot as it is, there is a stiff breeze. I see a million shades of green. I hear the hum of the fan. Birdsong woke me at 4:40 a.m., before I shut the windows. I noticed smells inside the house after I shut them. Melting soap in the bathroom. Coffee. My body feels slow, swollen, lazy.
I am trying not to dread the fundraising event I am working tonight. The dress is “formal”. The open bar and silent auction are outside, on the patio. My dress is made of an unfortunately synthetic material (long story). I imagine I will sweat. I fear social embarrassment…and I do not. I don’t really care that much. I like myself. I do fine work. The rest is unimportant. I will practice being gracious and compassionate, and I will come back home to my cool stone house at the end of the evening, strip down and lie beneath an open window, waiting for a thunderstorm. All will be well.
Outside, the butterflies and chipmunks, the birds and deer and Charles the woodchuck go slowly about their summer growth. I imagine that while they may sweat, they do not fret. I aspire to learn their wisdom.
For Cee and her Month of Squares – I visited my son at his Chicago apartment last Thursday, two days before he left to move to Oregon. This is what I saw at the bottom of the stairwell.
FINAL? What? Wow. WordPress has been prompting and challenging us for 7 years. Now, I suppose it’s time to launch. Well, I will have to come up with my own motivation for posting now. Please keep watching this space!
I have very much appreciated the WordPress team and their creative prodding. It’s been stimulating to play at word association and image association at the same time. I joined in the game on October 1, 2012 and have been participating ever since. The first WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge I posted was called “Mine”. I wrote:
“What do we really possess? What possesses us? What is “me” all about? For years I called this place “my prairie”. I do not own the land; I think it belongs to the village park district. I cannot even claim to own land in the neighborhood any more, as I moved out of state almost 2 years ago. But I associate some of my deepest “me” moments with this place. I walked into this prairie, with a feeling of reverence and retreat as if I were entering my personal sanctuary, on a regular basis while I was living nearby. I was in the midst of raising 4 children, nursing a dying husband, and striving to grow mature in those 20 years. My sense of identity, my sense of spirit and of sanctity and of God were all shaped by the time I spent here. I felt the place “talk” to me, as changes in weather, floral and fauna taught me to observe and ponder the significance of transience and transcendence. I cannot say that anything here is “mine”, really, but much of me will always belong with this place.”
Which was my All-Time Favorite challenge? Scrolling through my archives, I found this one that I think is relevant and showcases some of my favorite images. The theme was “Temporary”. Which reminds me that even endings are temporary. As Thich Nhat Hahn points out, there really are no endings and beginnings, just continuations.
Blogging friends, may you all enjoy your continuations, and thank you for sharing!
A lot of things in life are twisted, naturally and unnaturally – like Jafar’s beard. (How many times did my kids watch that Disney Aladdin video? Too many, because that’s the first thing that popped into my mind when I saw the word!)
In case you missed out on twisting last summer, here’s your chance to look at some twisty stuff both natural and man-made.
Liquid is a shapeshifter; it is diverse and can symbolize a million different things. It permeates all of life and flows in our own bodies. Here are just a few examples of how I imagine LIQUID.
Landscape is more than flat land covered by floodwater, the seeping of peat bogs, a river of liquid pewter viewed from a sentry tower. It’s an influence on what a person values, what she is willing to sacrifice or argue for. – Susan Vreeland
“Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong.” – Lao Tzu
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That’s all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth, I look at you, and I sigh. – W.B. Yeats