Summer
Song
“Let
us dance in the sun, wearing wildflowers in our hair…”
Susan
Polis Schutz
Henry
James once said the words “summer afternoon” were the most beautiful in
the English language. This Memorial Day weekend, as we remember those who gave
their lives in defense of this country, we also dive into another Southern summer.
I remember the days when summer was the season of freedom, of playing from early
morning until bedtime, of damming up the creeks and swimming in freezing
mountain lakes. Summer was as close to heaven as you could get on earth.
Summer
always makes me think of the Kingston Trio song, written by Will Holt: “Raspberries,
Strawberries.” The refrain goes, “Raspberries, strawberries, the good
wines we brew. Here’s to the girls of the countryside, the ones we drink ‘em
to.” This is the season when we can wear fewest clothes, go barefoot, feel the
sun on our face and sand beneath our feet and know that it’s okay to set free the child
that lives within us. We build fairy houses and sandcastles and believe that magical
creatures will surely inhabit them. Summer is like this still if we haven’t
forgotten how to play.
With
all the sadness and anger and hopelessness we have experienced in the fast few
years, it’s pure grace to take time to breathe again. In this Southern air, the
scents of jasmine, gardenia and magnolia weave an amazing heady, heavy veil that
makes you want to inhale and inhale and inhale. Like Dorothy in the field of
poppies, one could die happy ensconced in these heavenly scents.
Come on
down, y’all. This is the moment when heaven touches earth like no other time of
year. Put some wildflowers in your hair and dance in the sun.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
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