Long Summer Days
And finding the window of light
Today we have buttercups, daisies, foxgloves, roses, and purple buds of thistles getting ready to flourish.
Yesterday it was tulips, daffodils, bluebells, snowdrops, and a crocus surrounded by their multicoloured siblings.
Today it’s lush green grass, shrubs and hedgerows. Yesterday it was blossom, buds, and bare branches.
Today it’s sun feeding the plants; bees collecting pollen. Yesterday it was roots, seeds and bulbs exchanging nutrients underground.
Before the plentiful green started to show signs of bearing fruit, it was scarcity in winter. It was long dark nights and short light days. My shadow walked different.
Today I’m listening to the breeze flow through branches full of leaves, the song of birds nesting, and flicking insects off my arm.
It’s long summer days again, and as a child, these days felt like endless amounts of time. They were building sand castles, playing footie on the grass, chatting under a tree with friends. Because, they just were.
But now, they aren’t. I have to choose to slow down to focus and stretch the day longer. To feel like I’m breathing in long enough to rest.
To re-connect with the part of me that knew never ending summer days. I’m finding my way there through noticing the seasons. The waves of colour blooming.
Right now it’s flowers shaped like the sun, but before it was barren. Before I didn’t see. I was too blinded by artificial light.
Things felt like they wouldn’t change. I was stuck rushing around in long dark nights. However, there was so much life taking root under my feet. I just couldn’t breakthrough to understand the signs.
Sometimes it’s hard to see the changes taking place, when the window of light is so small. The worst of the shadows that loomed large was being consumed by stress. It clipped my wings.
Times have been bumpy over the past few years, but they have also been wonderful. I just wasn’t able to look back when I felt trapped, and know that my day to day troubles would lighten up.
Now I know, when I feel like I’m walking against the tide, it will change. And now there are early signs that my tree lined path is starting to bear fruit.
