My morning walk is a journey through the seasons. A few weeks ago the journey took me into summer. I walked the 1.2 miles from my house to the park. I was walking later in the morning.
When I arrived at the park I noticed three children, all girls. One of the girls was older than the other two and appeared to be an older sister or a babysitter. They were walking in the grass and I watched as they all stooped down and appeared to be picking up something.
I continued on my walk and had made my first circuit of the park path and was beginning my second when I noticed the three girls sitting on the path. The older girl had fashioned a necklace of clover and was working on two laurel-like wreaths to put on the heads of the other two. When the two younger children had wreaths placed on their heads, their smiles and delight wrapped them in sunbeams and they danced and giggled. The necklace of clover was perfectly fashioned and the artist who formed the necklace now placed it around her neck.
The three were just delighted. Their smiles made me smile.
It was instantly a moment when the magic of summer enveloped me. There were so many hours, when I was a child, of fashioning all kinds of things from the flowers, ferns and blossoms of summer. From dandelions and apple blossoms, from tiger lilies, to sweet clover, the endless imaginations as children played and fashioned and created.
The growing things, the blooming things; all give us an opportunity to enter into the magical and mystical reality of summer. Write a summer story. Touch a memory of when you made a necklace of clover, or rubbed someone’s face with a dandelion to see if they liked butter.