All the garden's wonders are singing the hum, calling to come and sniff, come taste with eyes, nose and tongue, listen to my song, feel me.
Out here in the green summer is at her zenith, the wild songs of spring are settled into a more mature melody of utter abundance, a restful yet entrancing hymn that is full to the very brim of good things.
I find myself going on every slower walks, zig zagging like a drunken honey bee between the flowers.
I want to drink it all in, fill myself up with the nectars of summer, create an internal honey that will sustain me all winter long.
From this day forward we will begin the downward journey to winter. This is the tipping point between summer and winter, between the inbreath and the outbreath of seasons, between the tick and the tock of the planetary clock.
Perhaps, finally, we will stand shoulder to shoulder WITH all the denizens of our planet, within rather than on the generous and fecund cycles of the creation. Perhaps we'll remember our indivisibility from her, from all that she is, all of thriving life.
Are you coming?