After a non-stop Sunday of breakfast-making, driving from Albany to Ballston Spa to Amsterdam and back, working out, shopping, location-scouting, and reading by the pool to be present on a summer’s day, I found myself facing a blog bereft of an evening post and I just didn’t have the energy to make one happen. As serious work continues on the fall theme and possible project, blog posts may feel lighter and less substantial. The older I get, the more scant my energy and resources when it comes to creative output, so bear with me because the fall season here is going to be something. I promise.
In the meantime, I’m going to try to dial back the work days and enjoy the summer while it is here. Fall will bring more than enough time to focus on new web themes and projects, and I remind myself to take time in the garden, to jump in the pool, to embrace and adore the summer.
For a morning summer moment, I made myself a breakfast of eggs and brought it out to the patio, where I picked a few ripe tomatoes from the vine, popping them directly into my mouth as one can do when the harvest is heavy. Rain in the night had started to split the ripest ones, so I threw a few into the lawn for the chipmunks. Andy has seen them snacking on them by the pool and on this day my heart wasn’t into scaring them away.
As I sat there winding to the end of ‘The Summer Book’ by Tove Jansson, I heard a squirrel jump into a nearby tree. Watching its silhouette against a blue sky, I followed its quick journey down to the fence and across the yard. It disappeared into the neighbor’s yard. The only sound left was the buzzing of the bees in the hydrangea blooms, the perfume of which was slightly reminiscent of privet in Provincetown, and summer memories mingled with summer present – the happiest sort of mental collision. All felt right with the world on this Sunday morning, and I’d take this moment with me as I drove along the dusty backroads that brought me back to my childhood town.
