
We’re standing on the edge of summer.
What do you see?
I see blackberries ripening and false dandelions standing at attention across the field.
I see storm clouds rushing in, and then out, and then in again.
I see fireflies at sunset and rabbits hopping along the fence line.
I see more green than the eye can take in,
And yellows, and whites, and red blossoms too.
I see abundance, and overflow, and perhaps even overwhelm.
I see sun teas and mosquito bites,
And bird nests and hopping frogs.
I see garden rows in need of tilling and older shrubs in need of pruning.
I see work to do, and play to be had, and rest to settle into.
I also see my news feed.
Fires ablaze to the North and to the West, though the Western flames are of the protest and resistance kind.
I see terror and uncertainty, desperate compassion held alongside desperate desires to control, and the noise and fear seem to be growing louder.
I see people doing their best, and some exacting their worst, and everything in between.
I see feuds about what it means to be good, to be right, to be on the side of what’s holy and worthy at this time.
I see so much, but mostly through a screen, so instead, I return to the blackberries.
And I think of their briars, the ways they catch the hem of my skirt, possible leaving ticks along my ankles as I wander through the taller grasses to reach them.
And I wonder if this is enough, this one little life. It’s all I have after all.
A life to pray for peace. A life to pray for mercy. A life to pray that all manners of evil, by divine grace, will be uprooted from within this heart of mine. The evil in my heart is no different than the evil in my neighbor’s, or my enemy’s, so I pray again for mercy.
And I stand on the edge of my summer, in this tiny acre settled into the woods, seeing all that’s been entrusted to me, doing my very best to honor the lives of my plant relatives and animal kin and human companions with as much humility and care as I’m able.
We’re standing on the edge of summer.
And I’m wondering, what do you see?
What’s captured your attention, your gaze?
How are you holding up,
holding together,
and making sense of all that’s caught your eye?
I really would love to know what you’re seeing unfold in front of you as we welcome midsummer in the coming weeks. Please share a reflection, or a few, on what’s caught your gaze as of late. I’d love to hear from you.
I see the swallow’s nest in the corner of my covered porch, and chipmunks, too. Sometimes a fox sleeps in our garden and I see the soft, smushed place where she rested.
I see bitterness and confusion swell up in hearts nearby but I also see the head of lettuce a neighbor dropped off from her garden. I see the photos sent back and forth between long distance friendships. Even with longing in my heart I can still see grace.