Thoreau said somewhere: “Live into the seasons”. Although not officially summer on the calendar, we’ve moved into summer mode. I’ve washed and put my blankets away and am using one thin cover. The flower garden in my courtyard has exploded with early bloomers, penstemon in 4 colors, white daisies, native blue/white columbine, deep blue larkspur, and pink/white peonies are vying for my attention and attract the first bees and butterflies. I was out at 6:30 AM creating shade covers for the marigold transplants, as the sun is too intense for the baby plants coming from my greenhouse. I’m eating green salads from the vegetable garden full of fresh flavor, and the crispy crunch of new lettuce leaves and sweet tasting spinach. Always a fan of spinach, it wasn’t until I tasted spinach directly from the garden that I discovered the sweetness along with the bitter green flavor. I am in love with the newness, the abundance of color, and living on my shaded porch during the hot part of the day, my bare feet on the cool concrete and tile floors.
Summer in Taos is full of extremes. Blinding light on dry mesa soil makes the lizards scurry for shade. Snow-melt rivers tumble down from the high peaks in the green mountain meadows, where wild flowers erupt in masses of color. Everything is in a hurry. Now is the moment to bloom, procreate, absorb the water while it’s still running. I feel this excitement in my veins, and must convert it to a spring in my step as I hike the trails in the cool of the early mornings
.
The excitement, the hurry, plays with my body. Long hours shoveling dirt result in back pain. I walk too fast and my knee complains the next day. The mind is willing but the body…. Well, you get the drift. So back to sitting in the shade and write while sipping my ice tea. The birds are taking a siesta; they will be back as the day cools.
So, how do I balance the season? Everything around me says there’s work to be done. Paint that wall while the weather is good for drying the paint. Order that firewood for winter so you can stack it. Plant those trees for future shade. Finish the book before end of summer. Everything cries out: now! Now is the time. Even though there are more daylight hours in the day, there are not enough hours in a day to get it all done. Where have the days gone when I could work 12 hours non-stop? Where are the days gone when I could hike weeks on end and absorb, taste nature in its varied form?
No time for gloom, but world’s gloom lingers in my mind. Gaza still lacks cease-fire, Ukraine war persists, political games escalate ahead of fall elections, climate disasters endure - heat in South USA, Asia. Europe is looking at a broiling summer. I’m just waiting for the monsoon to cool things. Will it come this year?
How do you balance the intensity of summer with depressive news? Both are hard to ignore. I alternate work days with hiking days. I let the joy of nature lift me out of depressive news, family illness, and local political infighting. Riding the wave of high and low, I know that another wave and another season will come. When the monsoon arrives, the mesa will transform into green, and lizards will emerge. Mushrooms will erupt in the mountains and I’ll forage between thunder storms. Magnificent sunsets and rainbows are just around the corner.
I love it all, and for me love is what life is about. The season feels urgent, but it opens the heart.
Yes, "let the joy of nature" make it better. :)
Yes! When we connect with the earth’s seasons it lessons the world’s despair. Thank you.