Cooler temperatures blew in during the last days of July, reminding me that we were at summer’s midpoint. I started to mourn summer’s end. But wait! Half of summer remains!
I can be a glass half-empty person. I need to remind myself of the half-full side of things. When I started to feel sad about summer being almost over, I reminded myself that this is midsummer and half of summer remains. I felt a little better. The melancholy lingers in the background, hiding in the shadows, but I am trying to keep it at bay. I get impatient with myself. Imagine being so fortunate to have half of summer ahead of me, yet I spend time thinking of it ending.
I’m not the only one thinking about summer moving along. Frances Sprout, writer of Materfamilias Writes, has been writing about summer lately. Her recent post resonated with me. She, too, is looking for ways to enjoy every moment of summer and we love some of the same summer experiences. Does anyone else love summer’s bare legs and bare toes? In her post, Frances writes about a podcast episode by Clotilde Dusoulier (of the podcast, Change Ma Vie). Frances is brushing up on her French and provided a rough translation of an episode about the hunt for summer’s treasures. I’ve borrowed Frances’s translation of one sentence in particular. “It’s also the time to celebrate the little happinesses of summer, the details, the small moments, because it’s of this poetry that life is made, and a large part of your ability to feel happy is simply in knowing to collect these moments.” That’s such good advice.
I recommend reading Frances’s entire post with more details about Dusoulier’s podcast and Frances’s thoughts about her summer.
And I am trying to focus on collecting summer’s small magical moments.
I stop and admire the colorful zinnias on our deck. They might be the most cheerful flowers I have ever encountered. I love their brilliant shades of pink, orange, and yellow.
As I was writing this post, a goldfinch flew to the zinnias, chipping away as it bounced up and down in the air. Once it landed, it hung around for a few minutes, plucking orange petals and dropping them on the deck. The finches are a constant in our summer backyard and provide so many joyful sights and sounds to collect.
I watch the hummingbirds taste the flowers and the sugar water I put out for them.
I take brisk walks and admire things growing all around me.
This was my view during an early evening walk last week.
I brush the tomato plants for a potent scent of the summer fruit.
I eat fresh tomatoes, produce from my deck garden, and from the local farms. Everything is fresh and bursting with flavor. Green beans are so much better when they are just picked!
A caprese salad is summer in every bite.
I inhale the salty, sometimes sulfurous scent of low-tide. I comb the beach for bits of sea glass and purple sections of quahog shells, smoothed by the sea.
During a recent bike ride, we encountered this brilliant blue sky and clouds reflected in the water at a local boat landing.
I admired the moss-covered roof, the colors of the stained glass window, and the ornate trim of this cottage during a walk through the Methodist Campground in Oak Bluffs. (You can see more cottages in this post.)
We stopped to see the beautiful wampum belt, created by members of the Wampanoag tribe. The belt includes images of importance to the Wampanoags that were created by weaving handmade beads made from quahog and whelk shells. You can read more about the belt in this Vineyard Gazette article.
I hope that you are having a summer filled with memorable moments too.
About the top photo: A cormorant spreads its wings to dry.
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