One of the traditions that Andy brought into my life, and one that we have religiously employed for the past twenty three years, has been making a list of seasonal wishes burning them on the first day of a new season. Today we burned our summer wishes, lighting them in the garden and releasing them into the summer sky. To celebrate, I give you a second song for summer (following this morning’s bohemian entry).
Are there still beautiful things?
The burning of the wishes offers a chance at assessment and aspiration, a chance to maybe manifest our dreams and hope into something that coalesces as a goal. We burn them to set them free as much as we burn them into our minds. The wrinkled carcass of ash soon scatters itself to the summer breeze – the rest is up to us.
Sweet tea in the summerCross your heart, won’t tell no otherAnd though I can’t recall your faceI still got love for you
Do I believe our wishes turn into something tangible? Not at all. Do I believe they offer the opportunity for something wonderful? Absolutely. There are no fairy godmothers that appear in a puff of smoke and sparkle, granting wishes with a swish of a star-studded wand. There are, however, fairy godfathers who work tirelessly behind the scenes to make such magic happen, to make the summer matter.
Please picture meIn the weedsBefore I learned civilityI used to scream ferociouslyAny time I wanted
Let our wings beat on then, blowing such wishes to the wind, manifesting their results in a different way, in a way we never imagined possible. Summer’s fireflies are all the magic we need. Make your wishes and blow…
