the blue muse

And just like that, the heat arrived, and it became a weekend of far-too-hot hot, though I didn’t let it stop me from gardening.

Finally, yesterday, after my clothes were completely soaked through with sweat and my stomach started feeling off from the heat, I took refuge inside, working on jewelry for my daughter’s coming-very-quickly wedding, while watching Winter’s Tale, a movie made from one of my favorite books of all time. One of the themes in the movie is the fever of one of the main characters, she is forever looking for ways to cool her body down, and so, it seemed just right to be watching it on the first truly hot day of summer.

I have very few poppies this year, when last year they were everywhere. And Love in a Mist, a plant I usually pull out by the armloads, seems non-existent. Apparently they weren’t fond of the too-cold winter.

Too hot, too cold, and somewhere in the middle lies just right. Those are the days I call gypsy days, when I would live outside if I could, and do just that as much as I am able. Days when the sky stretches on forever and the temperature is the perfect mix of warm sun on my skin and cooling, gentle breezes. Those days are a gift, and we’ve already had quite a few this year. I am grateful.

Life has moved into longer evenings and earlier mornings, almost without me noticing. I come in from outside and it’s 8:00 o’clock already, time for folding laundry, catching up on the things left to be done after dark, and finally, reading.

In summer, the dark feels so much lighter, a gentle weight on my shoulders, just enough to hold me in place so I don’t float off into the world of whatever book I’m enjoying.

Just enough.

I’m looking forward to July.