A Soul-Nourishing Summer

Dear Ones,

I’ve been indulging myself in rest, quiet, and solitude for the last couple of days, after a grand, uber-social summer. It began with the Chuckanut Writers Conference in late June, followed by a week in Maine with my kids. Then the Vancouver Folk Music Festival, the Mission (BC) Folk Music Festival, and our community Lammas campout at the river. I hosted my friend Sara who was visiting from Ithaca, NY — we had a nourishing soul-sister time, and I got to be a tourist in my own town. The smoke that came in from wildfires to the north and east slowed us down a bit, and I couldn’t show her our beloved Koma Kulshan (aka Mt. Baker) because she was hidden behind the haze, but we still had a delightful time.

Now I find myself slowing down, nesting into my own rhythms as I pack away the camping gear (how did that sleeping mat fit into that tiny bag again??), put on a load of laundry, and update my to-do list.

I have not picked up a drawing pad since mid-June, nor have I worked on the text for the guidebook for the oracle deck-in-progress. I can feel the deck-and-book project calling me like a siren’s song, reminding me I’ve ignored her way too long. I’m eager to rise early and return to my writing table each morning, where I contemplate the cattail-filled pond, listen to birdsong, pick up my pencil or open my keyboard, and get to work.

The garden needs watering, the pantry needs restocking, and I’m craving fresh berries and corn. Local lettuce, too; I love my summer salads. Perhaps I won’t need to wear a mask outside today — the prognosticators say the smoke is headed away from us. I need to run errands before it gets too hot outside.

I light a candle on my altar (noting the irony) for the land, the humans, and the critters — all who are suffering from the fires to the north of us in British Columbia, in eastern Washington, and now to the south on Mt. Rainier (aka Tahoma). Climate change is here. It’s real. Fires and summer smoke have become part of our “normal.”

And still — how I have loved this summer. My cup is filled to overflowing with music and movement, cherished friends, ceremony, reveling in the rain, heat, river, meadow, feasting on berries, corn, and so. much. zucchini.

In the name of rest, I don’t have a lot of words for you today but I do have photos!