Summer is hard on me; its heat and the extended daylight give me time to task meaningful work, but this in turn depletes me of energy that is no longer readily available or replenished as rapidly or fully as my body needs. Summer is a sprinting marathon of activity. The rewards are lots of blues and greens, colors, sunsets, and flowers, long hours freeing some up for resting, and a time for the balm of expectations of fall and the glorious warming fires of winter.
One great gift of my now knowing meaning of summer is a regular baptism in the waters of our mighty Tennessee. After a hard day of meaningful work, it is glorious to sink my body down in her cooling waters of gilead gently washing the pain and sweat away–a cleansing like no other, equal to the need of the hardness of summer on my poor, old soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment