Summer

A Satisfying Summer

August 28, 2020 by Nancy 21 Comments

So you read this title and thought: It’s happened. The woman is delusional or has been living in a cave. Doesn’t she know that a pandemic spread across the world cancelling life as we knew it? Doesn’t she know that violence is destroying some of America’s most renowned cities and wildfires are raging? Doesn’t she know that the political divide has never been deeper, and that the fate of our nation rests on the outcome of the next election? Yes, yes, and yes. I know all that.

But I’m also aware that while we’ve been distracted, concerned, confused, fearful, and maybe just plain mad about all the above, summer simply made her seasonal appearance. And, at least in our corner of the world, she did so in a spectacular and satisfying way.

Although September in Colorado brings many beautiful, warm days, summer always seem to be officially over when school starts—either in classrooms or virtually as this year. So I’m already reflecting on what was so special about a summer that may have slipped by unnoticed.

My husband and I had extra time on our hands which we chose to spend outside walking, swimming, or gardening whenever we could. We actually got tan through the sunblock this year! That’s summer.

After five years in this house, we finally had our own charm (the group name) of hummingbirds. One morning I counted five at the feeder at once! I know for some of you that’s still a paltry few, but since sightings have been so rare for us it was exciting enough for me to put up an extra feeder. Each morning and evening I’ve been charmed by their antics. That’s summer.

Our flowers outdid themselves. The clematis and rose bush in our front yard bloomed not once but twice, and the pots of annuals on the deck performed profusely too. There’s just something about going out barefooted early each morning to water your plants. That’s summer.

The farmers’ market brought fresh green beans, peaches, and homegrown tomatoes, and my son’s vegetable garden produced a bountiful harvest, too. That’s summer.

We’re blessed to have two parks near us and though organized sports leagues were cancelled, the sound of children playing was reassuringly normal. We heard the crack of the bat from pick up baseball games, got to pet all the dogs on their way to the dog park, and even caught sight of a kite stuck in a tree. That’s summer.

Did you miss it? If so, it’s not too late. Set aside your worries about all the things you can’t do much about anyway and get outside so God’s gift of summer can speak to you. You’ll find her message quite soothing and satisfying.

The September Rose

September 9, 2019 by Nancy 16 Comments

Why is it that September roses seem more beautiful than those of June? Maybe it’s because we thought we’d seen the last of the blossoms, but then the rose bush surprises us with a new burst. Just a little plant food, water, and sunshine and voila! Another showing of delicate pink buds appears to remind us that warm, summer days are still with us, and beauty will continue to appear where we least expect it.

My rose bush is a common rambler, but my neighbor has a glorious hedgerow of Rose of Sharon bushes. Really from the hibiscus family, these blooms wait until late August or early September to come into their glory. In the Bible, the Rose of Sharon symbolizes beauty, and it is used in the poetic book of Song of Solomon to describe the beauty of a lover. This year we were all surprised when a darker pink section appeared in a bush that was always covered with light pink flowers in years past. Some sort of beautiful, botanical miracle!

At our last house, I had a more sophisticated rose that only had two or three blossoms at a time. Still, each year in September it would gather all the nutrients it had left to produce one perfect rose which I always dubbed “the last rose of summer.” I’m not the only one to appreciate such simple solitude. In 1830, Thomas Moore wrote, “’Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone; All her lovely companions are faded and gone.”

What lesson does the late or last September rose have for us? Maybe it’s a sign that whatever our age we, too, have more to offer the world than we have yet revealed—even more than the world expects of us. If summer has rejuvenated us at all, can we pull on the resources we’ve stored up to go into fall producing something that makes the world a more beautiful, better place?

I must have loved going back to school in the fall as a child, because September always gives me a boost. It feels more like a new year than January 1 ever did! It’s a time to set goals, to mend any fences with broken pickets, to look forward to the coming autumn, even winter, with an expectation that the days will be worth celebrating just because they exist.

Might there be hard times to come? Sure. The farmer’s almanac predicts a cold and blustery winter. But as we are surviving it, the rose bush buried under the snow will be resting up for a new show of glory come next summer. That wise sage Ziggy is quoted as saying, “You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.” Let’s enjoy the last rose of summer, applaud her resilience, and be optimistic about the beauty in the days to come—even if there are some thorns, too.

What’s So August About August?

August 28, 2019 by Nancy 18 Comments

To describe someone or something as august means you believe the person or event to have great importance, inspire reverence or admiration, or be worthy of respect. The long list of synonyms for august includes: distinguished, eminent, venerable, hallowed, illustrious, acclaimed, esteemed, impressive, magnificent, majestic, and lordly. Whew!

So why is the eighth month of the year called August? Evidently the Roman Senate changed the name of this month in an attempt to curry favor with Caesar Augustus, who completed the calendar reforms begun by Julius Caesar.

But does this last full month of summer merit its moniker? What’s so august about August? How does it inspire reverence or admiration? Oh, let me count the ways!

First of all, August is the month when summer reaches its fullness. It’s the month when the Black-eyed Susans, Colorado’s “lilies of the field,” flourish on the roadsides and spring up in the most unexpected places. In fact, it’s the month when beauty abounds.

Sweet little peach Andie gets ready to sample a Palisade peach! — Sweet peach Andie with a Palisade peach!

Recently we were invited to the home of friends who live in the Black Forest area of Colorado Springs in a wonderful log home surrounded by evergreen trees and lovely woodland gardens. As I gazed at their planters overflowing with blossoms of every color, and heard and watched the hummingbirds cavorting around their feeders, I breathed in the balmy evening air and thought, “Now this is summer. This is August.” Definitely a moment of reverence and admiration.

August is also the month of harvest. The month when we can find rows and rows of colorful, fresh produce at the farmers’ markets instead of just the vendors with their homemade soaps and honeys. In Colorado, August is the month we finally get to feast on Olathe sweet corn, juicy Palisade peaches, and Rocky Ford cantaloupe. All venerably acclaimed for their delicious, rich flavors. One might even describe the first taste of each as magnificent!

Liam and Peter in 2013. — Liam and Peter years ago!

And then there are all the darling “back to school” photos on Facebook and Instagram. Are those moments captured of great importance? Oh yes. How distinguished the children look in their new school clothes, toting backpacks with zippers that work. The hope that shines on those little faces that this year they will find a place to sit at lunch, make a new friend, like their teacher, and get to the bus on time, is hallowed for sure. And the loud, collective sigh of relief from all the parents once school is back in session could surely be described as impressive! Even those of us who remember when school didn’t start until after Labor Day have to admit that an important event like starting a new school year fits nicely in a month called August.

So we revere and respect you, August. We even dub you lordly because only the Lord who is the Creator of all could give us such an illustrious month! Come back next year, OK?

Summer’s Song

June 13, 2019 by Nancy 6 Comments

Has anyone else noticed that the birds seem to be singing more enthusiastically this summer than ever before? I don’t know if it’s because I’ve slowed down enough to truly hear them, or if they’ve added more songs to their repertoires. I just know they seem to be sounding a symphony of song this summer—especially at dawn’s early light when they all crescendo, “It’s morning! Time to get up!”

A computer search on bird calls opened up a whole new world of ornithological information to me. According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website “All About Birds,” when a bird sings it is telling you what it is and where it is. I’m sorry, but the only bird I can identify in that way would be the one chirping right in front of me from our deck railing. Even then I might not know what it is, but at least I would know where it is!

I blame my lack of an ability to identify birds by their tweets on the fact that I grew up in Tennessee where the official state bird is the Mockingbird. It got its name from, you guessed it, mocking the calls of all other birds! No wonder I’m an epic fail at deciphering bird song.

What I learned from my research, however, is that many people out there in bird land take identifying birds by the songs they sing extremely seriously. The comments on one website reminded me of the old PBS radio program “Car Talk,” where Click and Clack, the Tappet brothers, would ask callers to describe the noises their malfunctioning cars were making and get responses like: gurgle-gurgle-hiss, screeeeech, or clang-clang-clunk.

An actual comment from one birder asking for help in identifying a bird call was: The best I can describe it is like a “twotty twotty twotty twwwEEEEEEEEE….twa twa twa twa.” The “twwwEEEEE” part goes up in pitch, the twa’s are back down in pitch, sort of around where the twotty’s were in the beginning.

OK. Got that? What’s your guess?

I also learned that on birding websites, and even on YouTube, you can click on the name of a bird and listen to its actual song. Listening to bird calls on your computer all afternoon is not only somewhat interesting, it’s also a wonderful way to confuse and bemuse your cat.

Suggestions online for beginning birders on how to identify birds by their songs include: listen and watch, learn from an expert, say the sound to yourself (see above), and pay attention to details like rhythm, pitch, tone and repetition.

I think ornithology would be a wonderful vocation or avocation, but I’m not sure it’s for me. I’ll just continue to enjoy all the melodies I hear and wonder why the winged wonders warble at the same time instead of taking turns like on American Idol. And I’ll never figure out what genre each bird has chosen. Oldies? Praise songs? Reggae? Rhythm and blues? It sure sounds like a mix of all of them.

Whether birds sing to announce their whereabouts or to attract a mate, I’m just glad they sing. When ladies in my assisted living Bible study tell me that they can’t sing, I often quote Psalm 100 and tell them to just, “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord!” The summer songbirds I love to hear seem to be doing just that.

Strike Up the Band!

June 17, 2018 by Nancy 15 Comments

Whenever I see a field of yucca plants in bloom this time of year it always reminds me of a marching band, each member stepping out in a tall hat with a plume on the front. Yucca plants thrive in dry climates and are drought-resistant, so unlike the wildflowers that would have preferred a rainier May, they are in their glory now in Colorado. Walking through Rampart Park near my house is like being at a band festival, with competing groups marching in every direction!

Yet on these competition fields a smattering of wildflowers has dared to pop up. Three years ago when we moved to our neighborhood we had experienced a very wet spring, and the fields of wildflowers were breathtaking. This year I’m delighted with the occasional Indian paintbrush, cinquefoil, or wild penstemon.

I know physical trainers advise clients to vary their workout routines, and many people besides Robert Frost extol the road less traveled, yet I think there is something to be said for taking the same walk through all seasons year after year. Doing so establishes a rhythm to our life on earth—and the heavenly delights we encounter along the way will always vary.

Now that summer is in full bloom, my almost daily walks through Rampart Park provide both the stability of the familiar route and the excitement of change. Which dogs will be at the dog park today, and will the dachshund and the German shepherd get along better today than yesterday? Has the black-tailed weasel returned to his hole by the sidewalk?

Baby rabbits hop away from my footsteps in every direction, pausing at the edge of their thickets as if daring me to see them before they dart inside. I love that they have a safe place to abide when the dogs come by (sadly some not leashed by their owners), and I’m reminded of John 15:5 where we are encouraged to abide in Christ and trust only in Him for our safety.

As I walk I can gaze across the valley to a neighborhood on the mountainside where I know a family I dearly love is stirring and getting ready for their day, and I send a prayer their way. I can check out the snow melt on Pikes Peak and watch for approaching storms. I can greet the neighbors and strangers I meet and exchange pleasantries to brighten my day and theirs.

But most of all, as I walk I can praise God for the glorious creation around me, and for my physical ability to walk through it and enjoy it. I promise Him I will never take my walks for granted, because I know too many people unable to enjoy such simple satisfaction. Maybe I stick to the same route, but every walk is different. And I am grateful. Strike up the band!

Like several bloggers I follow, I’m slowing my pace this summer. I’m hoping for one post a month, with a promise to step it up in the fall.

Summer Reading

June 29, 2017 by Nancy 13 Comments

Any book we read in the summer seems to have staying power. As refreshing as a cool glass of iced tea, it seeps into our subconscious and stays there. Reading outdoors in the fresh air may be part of the stimulation.

I just finished reading A Voice in the Wind and An Echo in the Darkness by Francine Rivers. These are the first two books in the three-part Mark of the Lion series. I’m dying to jump into the third book but have to pace myself since our summer book club won’t discuss that book until the end of August. Still, this series will always remind me of the Summer of ’17!

Maybe it isn’t really reading in the summer that makes the content more memorable, but the fact that we take the time to read a book in sittings long enough to absorb what’s being said. I’m in one of those “reading periods” right now, before all our summer visitors descend, and it’s glorious. Since the days grew longer and the television programming grew even less desirable, I’m loving making reading my pastime of choice. When I read before bed, it seems like the cadence of the author’s writing lulls me to sleep and dwells in my dreams. It just stays with me.

Our passion to read, and to read with the intent to retain and be changed, is what we hope to pass on to our kids and grandkids. You know the ones—the kids listening to their ipods while text messaging their friends. If only they could know the thrill we knew of coming out of the library each summer carrying a stack of books that went from our waists to our chins—and knowing we had two whole weeks to read them! Or waiting with bare feet in the hot summer sun to enter the air-conditioned bookmobile, where the cool air combined with the smell of leather-bound books was intoxicating. E-readers are wonderful, especially when traveling because you can take many books without adding weight to your luggage. But there’s just nothing like the smell and feel of a real book.

How well I remember reading as a child. If I didn’t have a library book to read, I would just start in on my collection of Nancy Drew mysteries and read them over and over. I would have loved it if a free lending library, the birdhouse-sized ones which have popped up recently in towns everywhere, had been within walking distance from my house.

Whatever else we lose, we must not lose reading. We have to pass along our passion for escaping with a good book and allowing it to educate us, restore us, change us, and so become a small part of who we are. Happy summer reading!