The View from the Top

     Here within the 43rd parallel, summer pauses right about now.
     It's like being at the top of a Ferris wheel, Bob says.  

     Ever since the first birds arrived this spring, the garden sprouted seedlings, and lacrosse playoff games were played and finished, the wheel began turning with the glorious cycles of the onset of summer.  Then the children left for camp, the spinach bolted, and the Fourth of July washed out as Hurricane Arthur passed by.  Nonetheless, strawberries are now made into jam, monarch butterflies have returned (yes! I've seen them!), and the mailman brings letters from camp.  Up and down, ever in motion, summer spins along to this peak, and then, it pauses.

     Here at the top, the view is breath-taking.  I can see lush hayfields green with the second growth of grass.  The undulating horizon of forest canopy is now the darker, mature green of summer.  In the gardens, the yellows of spring have passed, replaced by the hot-month colors of crimson roses, orange day lilies and scarlet bee-balm. The Eastern Wood Peewee sings it's name from the forest edge with the sing-song of  summer's laziness.
     This is a sweet moment.  It's a time to just be.  Smell the earth after a thunderstorm.  Eat lettuce from a garden and taste the tenderness of home.  Listen: the spring birdsong is quieting, but the late summer insects are not yet scraping their "ch-ch" out of the fields, so listen in this pause.  Feel the length of the days while we have them.  Take in the view.
     The wheel will start to turn again soon enough.  Don't miss this moment. 

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