Ah summer is really here now! Tom was out last night bringing Gnomad, our dog, to the house. (Gnomad is our very old malamute, rickety, slow, but still sweet.) He said the light looked odd. The setting sun was bouncing off the clouds in such a way as to reflect straight down instead of slanting so the shadows and colors were odd for sunset. I told him it was summer coming in and he had seen it:) Summer was always such a magickal time when I was a kid. You know, school gets out and suddenly there is abundant free time. There is a feeling of release from the fetters of schedule and discipline. You get to stay up later, play out at twilight, or even after dark when you are older. There are always things to play and not a lot of work to do. Oh, there are expanded chores at home which might be mowing the grass, or weeding the garden, or thngs like that. And of course, one must complain vigorously about them but they weren't that bad, and they were outside, and could often be done with friends. It was pretty easy to convince a friend to help which made the work go so much faster. What ever happenened to that mystical, magickal time?
Well, clearly growing up doesn't do much good for it. I am out of school now but seem swamped with all the things that should be, ought to be, have to be done. I know I have written on this topic before. But I still haven't found a way around it. But maybe it does explain another mystery, the will-o-the-wisp nature of nature. Have you ever noticed that when you go berry picking there is always a big ripe berry just out of reach to draw you further and further into the thicket? And then when it is time to leave it is much harder to untangle and go back than it was to get in? Or when you take a walk in the woods, the deer trails beckon one on with their winding ways, or interesting looking rocks will appear just a little further on? Maybe it is because they know that they have to entice, draw us out while they have us because once we go back in, back to our should-get-dones, it may be quite awhile before we can be lured out to the pleasures of the forest again.
Copyright © 2000 Kyril Oakwind