When did it happen that I began wishing for rain in the summer? I've gone from shameless sun-worshipper to dedicated shade-seeker. We're in the midst of a heat wave here on southern Vancouver Island and I'm thinking fondly of October. Heck, I'd even trade in today's 5:10 am sunrise and 9:18 pm sunset for the dark days of winter in order to have more comfortable weather. Hopefully this heat passes quickly and mildly, and in the meantime I'll content myself with walks in the coolness of evening when the light is at its most beautiful.
This morning I dragged my inner self kicking and screaming to the office. I was almost late and all but my physical self clung to everything beautiful and calm that I passed along the way. Dreams like kites burst out of me, tethered by longing. One day I will find myself spending days how I choose. However, I swam in the ocean this afternoon, which makes up for a lot. I splashed around at a place where the water is cool and clear, and angled rocks make a small tucked-away beach at the end of a winding rural road. There were big swells coming in; they lifted and lulled me as I tilted my head back to take in the wind-tossed treetops. Small blackberries at the top of the beach trail. Home, and dinner, and tea. Summer is sliding by quickly.
Twice now, we've swum in the small lake naked. Sunlight on pale skin, bodies moving freely in the fluid lakescape; the movement of my arms stitching me to the surface. Small feather-winged seeds and insects drift along, snatched up by big glittering dragonflies. Fork-tailed swallows dip and dive, sending up arcs of spray as their swoops skim the surface, butter yellow bellies filled with tiny transparent wings in the blue sky. There's a silvery film on the ripples in the water and where the tall firs and cedars touch sky. Beyond all but the unseen, ravens glide. Their flight traces infinity symbols in the cloudless expanse. Refreshed, we buy vegetables on the way home. Also peaches, yogurt, apples, butter, a battery and blueberries. The car ride is hot and smelly and as we enter the city the magic is gone.
It's interesting the roundabout ways in which we get what we want. I wanted another day vacation (actually I'd like many more, but let's not go there just yet), and here I am at home on the couch with stitches in my knee thanks to a careless move when building a sheet-metal shed yesterday. It's not that bad; I'll be back at work tomorrow, but when I woke up this morning it hurt a lot and I couldn't walk. Instead I managed an awkward painful hop-shuffle-drag gait across the house and called in sick so I can keep it still for the day. I'll have to work on a more comfortable way to get those other vacation days. Speaking of vacation, we just had an excellent week of freedom. We built a shed, swam at several new old beaches, cleaned the house and let it get messy again, harvested onions, had some dear family moments and saw an old friend, and explored tide pools. Again, please (though maybe without the shed).