If these are indeed the (premature) dog days of Open Salon I wanted to put up something a little more uplifting than my last story.
Yesterday was Solstice, the height of the growing season when Mother Nature gives us that great angle of light and that intense blast of heat. Last night we went down to the beach for the annual drumming ceremony which I wrote about last year. The sun set a second earlier tonight and we are already tipping the balance of light and dark.
Today I just wanted to retreat into air conditioned comfort and write but the planets were not aligned for that. Instead I'm up late breaking my new habit of getting an early night to share a few thoughts with you.
We had a dinner invite at an older friend's house tonight. He is a kind soul; a Quaker. Before leaving, he suggested we sit in his backyard to watch the Evening Primose unfold before our eyes. I'd never seen it occur before. It was pretty spectacular to watch the flowers open in real time although it seemed like time lapsed photography. The bloom expires within a day. Again a reminder of small miracles around us and how fleeting life is.
When I came home these thoughts brought me to my Rose of Sharon bush. I know it's truly summer when it begins to bloom.
It was planted seven years ago this week, shortly after my mother died, in memory of her. Woman that she was, she rallied round despite her illness for a Sunday gathering to celebrate her birthday. The next morning I got the surprise phone call to come to her side for the last time.
It's a spiritual moment when these buds unfold, especially this year. I've missed my mother intensely for a reason I cannot explain; I ask myself why now of all times? Perhaps it's because I distinctly remember her being the age I am now. When I was 10 she was 50 and she loomed a large presence in my life. What I'd give to sit and talk with her about so many things that I've finally come to understand.
Mum, this bud's for you.
"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." - Anais Nin
Other flowers have held my attention lately as well. This rose was so fragrant the day I took the photo I just stood and breathed in the scent.
Irises are my favourite flower of all. Though I hated to tug these purple beauties from the earth, I did so to save them from the rain we had last month. So fleeting is their short life, I knew the pelting rain would leave them soggy like fallen soldiers in the garden so I brought them inside.
(The photos are sadly out of focus here but you get a sense of their size and magnificence.)
Moving from flowers to birds, I've made friends with a swan and signet again this year. I'm convinced they know my voice. They glide over so elegantly while I chat them up.
So, if this is indeed the swan song of Open Salon, I wanted to leave something lovely here in this space.
If it's not the end, excuse all my sweetness and we can resort to our regularly scheduled spam programming. (That's my dry humour for you).
Have a great summer.
Words and Photos: © Scarlett Sumac