Remnant XIX: Scenes of Summer

Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom. ~James Wright~

Officially, summer solstice doesn't happen until June 20th, the day of the full strawberry moon--but, my heart has other plans. Heat, flowers blooming, school coming to a close. My heart has already decided.  Summer starts now.

I can feel it in the way the humidity rises above the treeline in the morning like a ghost of the night before. Birds, busy with the business of finding mates, nesting down, outsmarting lean neighborhood cats with quick claws. Everything is blooming--the scent of honesuckle enough to make me drunk. I walk along the edge of the wide green field, waist-high with wheat, watching for deer & foxes who keep visiting. Frogs tremble across the pavement, rising up from the creek in search of higher ground.   

Summer is closing in & summer is dramatic, flashy, naked, & real. Summer doesn't play small or worry about being too much for anyone else. Summer shows color & perfume. Shows sex & heat & light that lasts. Shows sunsets that exaggerate everything & flowers that don't care if others see their beauty--they are damn determined to blossom wide open anyway.

Summer doesn't hide itself.

There are some lessons here in this shameless display for any of us who have struggled with our self-doubt.

This particular summer for me, especially, isn't one to play small. It isn't one that will go as planned or as per the normal routines. It isn't one to doubt my instincts or my ability to bloom wild. I am trusting the lessons this summer will bring me about being connected, being a strong advocate, carving out creative time & space, and standing in my full power as a mother & a woman. I am trusting my body to lead me. Getting close to the Earth. Working magic. Throwing cards. Finishing what I've started. This is the summer of the feral moon. All that is instinct & green & wild. All that is unknown. All that cycles & returns to me. All that lights up the night sky.