In Summer Everything Is Feeling
Things I loved this week and more...
There is little of traditional religion in summer. The Holy is found where it should be, in lived life, not in forever reaching beyond. Some religious calendars call these weeks “ordinary time,” implying, of course, that the common can be uncommonly illuminating. Summer time is “now” time. Spring and winter look ahead, autumn looks back, but summer is most at home in the here and now. It asks us to act now or never. It is nature’s extroverted season, seldom subtle! Air is dense and heavy. Shade becomes a hunger. Fields drop with green, the gardens lean under the weight. Beauty overpowers. Heat oppresses and thunderstorms build like pressure in the body until warm rain washes the hot streets, leaving steam to rise like the memory of a fleeting passion. Nights are soft to the touch and full of murmuring sounds. In summer everything is feeling” – Marvin Hiles
In summer everything is feeling. In July all is thick with heat and humidity. Working in the garden last week, tying up tomato plants that had grown heavy with unripened fruit, we noticed that the stems of the plants were sending roots into the air. The plants believed there was enough water in the air to sustain a root system. Walks with my old dogs have gotten slower — because of their advancing years and arthritis, and because the heat requires frequent stops to nose around in the shade or just lay flat on their bellies in the cool creek bed slate and water. Yes, all is now and dense and full.
The farm stand down the road is selling the first sweet corn. As someone who grew up in Indiana, I can tell you that sweet corn is its own religion. Sweet corn is to be eaten freshly picked and so sweet you could eat it raw right from the cob. In the Midwest we can’t boast of having a Grand Canyon or majestic mountains or endless salty ocean shores. It keeps us humble, and deeply appreciative of small beauty — green ravines, mossy creeks, deciduous forests, and lightening bugs rising at dusk and blinking their own mystic morris code. But we will (and do) brag unabashedly about the extraordinary sweet corn and vine ripe tomatoes that come on about now in mid July.
July is a time of feeling, of listening to the summer birds, the whir of cicadas. To remember endless summers experienced as a small child. It is a time of now and memory. A time to drink in the way the world breathes a sigh when the sun goes down and the night creatures begin to whisper, murmur, howl or hoot. It is time to look up into the clear or hazy night sky where the Summer Triangle asterism shining down.
In these days of heat and now and feeling, may you find shading places and moments with the evening stars of July, Cynus the swan, Lyra the harp, and Aquila the eagle. May you have an extra ear of sweet corn or whatever treasure of summer makes its appearance in your part of the world. May there be potlucks and jumping in ponds or lakes. May you know “nights that are soft to the touch” and ordinary time that is always and ever full of extraordinary moments.
-Carrie
Question
I described some of the wonders of “ordinary time” in July in Indiana. What are some of the wonders where you life at this time of year?
Things I Loved This Week
My friend Helen Blier sent me this article on how Potlucks with change the world and defeat fascism, but the Substack Columnist Garret Bucks Here is a link to the substack page. Its a bit long, but worth the read.
This meme my friend sent me…
Your comments
“The thrush alone declares the immortal wealth and vigor that is in the forest. Here is a bird in whose strain the story is told…Whenever a man hears it he is young, and Nature is in her spring; whenever he hears it, it is a new world and a free country, and the gates of heaven are not shut against him.-Henry David Thoreau” ARay
We have been watching over a hummingbird nest that the momma built on our from porch on the Christmas lights. Yesterday the last baby was looking restless and alert. I lingered to watch it a bit, and to marvel at the new nest just built less than 10 feet away over our sodewalk. This morning that first little one fledged. - Linda Olsen
Music Always Music
After reading the article on how potlucks will save the world from fascism I had to post this song called “Potluck” from my album A Great Wild Mercy. It was so fun recording this song live and then creating the video with bits photos from my home. At a potluck with just trust what people show up with..and welcome them to the table.
Concerts and Workshops - Booking 2027
I will be touring and new album at the top of the year. I’m currently booking my 2027 year. If you are interested in bringing me to your community you can contact my agent, Jim Chaffee at Jim Chaffee Management Group.
Summer has always been my favorite time of year. Fresh peaches and watermelon, tomatoes and sweet corn, and the longer days, more relaxed - not weighted down with layers of extra clothes or have to’s. Swimming, floating in a pool or the wonder of feet covered in sand and sea water. Summer is wondrous and rich and full. Loved this post so much.
Though I don’t get down to it as much as I like, my family has a farm in west-central Illinois and while I love it all times of year, I think I love it most in summer when you can pick the sweet as candy cherry tomatoes right off the vine and swear you’re tasting heaven. The aging, but still wonderful farm cat, Frank lazes in the shade under a chair on the front porch while I sit in the farm house living room with my aunts and uncles, mom, brother, cousins, and wife sipping on cheap beer and laughing the afternoons away. There’s no Grand Canyon in the Midwest, correct, but summer on the farm is an ordinary wonder that leaves me awe-struck every time!