When we walk down to the creek now, the air is sweet with the scent of honeysuckle. The boys still have a few more days of school left but already the spinning earth whispers, freedom in our ears. Each passing moment weighs heavy with anticipation.
We sit out back at dusk, toes touching under the table…letting the slow coming on of night drip cool into these last hours. The wind is whispering over the meadow, stirring bushes and bending low the trees. It skims my skin, lifting with it the remnants of a tired day and for a moment I think I’m dreaming. But then, he sees it too—from the Maple—this faint winking.
It’s the first fireflies of the season and this quiet return always creates a celebration in my heart. After the initial welcome, we sit still and enjoy the show.
Isn’t it something how everything old is new again and we can greet the familiar like royalty in those first moments of recognition? Each winking light lifts the heavy and my body remembershow these critters usher in the summer—the way the sun lingers longer on the hills, the steady music of the peepers, and the later bedtime as we chased the lights.
I sit and wiggle my toes over my man’s…think about the amazing way the world is designed…how the Almighty gives us seasons so we’ll remember the beauty that we so easily forget when we face it every day.
I look at him from under my lashes and the beauty of our life enters quiet into my heart, like the slow turning of the seasons on a dewy night in late spring. with Lyli today:
I’m a morning person and happiest in a place with no walls. Give me a bed of grass and a blanket-sky and I will dream deep in wonder. But a good story takes me to this place too. And a poem? Even better. You can always find me here. Or connect with me on on facebook, twitter, or pinterest.