While the official arrival of summer is not until the solstice on June 21st, the feeling of summer, the smell of summer and the mood of summer is in the air. No mistaking it, blossoms everywhere. The sweet scent of lilacs, honeysuckle and apple blossoms have filled the night air. Fireflies flitting and providing sparks of light the night air. Flowers cascade over the edges of pots on the doorstep. The warmth of the sun brings vital heat and leaves behind its golden glistening on the skin and hair. The lake beckons. The soft and moist soil of spring becomes more fixed and firm as the blossoms come and go, the bees visit, the butterflies appear and herald in with great majesty the first fruits of summer, sweet strawberries, as delicious freshly picked from the mother plant, warm from the sun's rays, as they are in shortcake and cream. Sweet summer.
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With this feeling freshness and new beginnings in the air,
I write a Manifesto for Summer, as a source of inspiration and gratitude for the goodness of summer.
A Manifesto for Summer
:: Savor the longer days and shorter nights.
:: Be outdoors as often as possible.
:: Create spaces for being outdoors, a table for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Cosy places to lounge and
read. Spots in the garden for tea.
:: Find dappled light for mid day and hot days.
:: Build camp fires. Toast marshmallows and hot dogs. Make s'mores.
:: Go for a walk each night under the stars.
:: Follow the moon's path through the sky.
:: Sleep outside.
:: Cook outside. Over fire.
:: Cook outside. Over fire.
:: Go barefoot whenever possible.
:: Tend the garden.
:: Snip flowers for the table. And other unexpected places.
:: Run under the sprinkler.
:: Play flashlight tag.
:: Make fruit pops with yoghurt, fresh fruit and juice.
:: Make ice cream with fresh cream and strawberries.
:: Stop at lemonade stands.
:: Go swimming whenever possible.
:: Have sand between the toes.
:: Pack lunch and go for a hike.
:: Gather with friends around the fire. Sing. Tell stories. Eat good food.
:: Get organized for preserves: jams and jellies, pickles, herbs, spices, tomatoes, chutney
So there it is. I've been rejoicing in the lightness of spring, in the dampness and smell of the dirt, in the new beginnings, in the green perennial friends who return each year and rise from the earth to unfurl new leaves, burst buds into blossoms and provide us with leaves to steep for tea and leaves to spice up the cooking pot and pan, in the songs and squawking of the baby birds in the nests outside my windows, in the chives for potatoes and eggs, in blossoms for the table. Spring uplifts us and invites us to relax, slow down and savor summer.
How will you slow down and savor summer this year?
So there it is. I've been rejoicing in the lightness of spring, in the dampness and smell of the dirt, in the new beginnings, in the green perennial friends who return each year and rise from the earth to unfurl new leaves, burst buds into blossoms and provide us with leaves to steep for tea and leaves to spice up the cooking pot and pan, in the songs and squawking of the baby birds in the nests outside my windows, in the chives for potatoes and eggs, in blossoms for the table. Spring uplifts us and invites us to relax, slow down and savor summer.
How will you slow down and savor summer this year?