Eternity is with us, inviting our contemplation perpetually, but we are too frightened, lazy, and suspicious to respond; too arrogant to still our thought, and let divine sensation have its way. It needs industry and goodwill if we would make that transition; for the process involves a veritable spring-cleaning of the soul, a turning-out and rearrangement of our mental furniture, a wide opening of closed windows, that the notes of the wild birds beyond our garden may come to us fully charged with wonder and freshness, and drown with their music the noise of the gramaphone within. Those who do this, discover that they have lived in a stuffy world, whilst their inheritance was a world of morning-glory:where every tit-mouse is a celestial messenger, and every thrusting bud is charged with the full significance of life.
~ Evelyn Underhill, Practical Mysticism: A Little Book for Normal People (1914)
This is the time of year when the Morning Glories come into the peak of their season, when the flowers and vines tumble over each other on the garden fence, in the meadows and fields, and in the marsh.
I’ve come to appreciate them not only for their beauty but for their announcement that Autumn is coming. No matter what the weather says — and believe me, the weather is still insisting on summer — Autumn will have its turn.
After Florence finally moved out, she took some of the humidity with her. It’s still somewhat humid. Our local weather folks use a chart that shows levels of comfort or discomfort when it comes to the dew point and the humidity. Our dew point went from 79°F to 69°F once the storm blew out to sea. 79°F is considered Miserable on the dew point chart. 69°F is Uncomfortable (just a degree short of Oppressive). It’s funny how Oppressive and Uncomfortable feel so much better than Miserable when it comes to the heat and humidity.
Yellow flowers are gathering at the edge of the soybean fields and ditches, sometimes taking over whole fields if there are no crops planted in them. I think they might be some kind of Helicanthus. The locals (and many others from other places) call them False Sunflowers. They are bright and cheerful, and another indication that the season of summer is running its course.
I’m still walking every day, and I am up to about 130,000 steps now. When I started I thought one million steps sounded like an awful lot. Now it not only seems doable, but also somewhat reasonable.
The nights are finally getting a little cooler, a trend that I hope continues. It’s made the morning walks more enjoyable. I’ve been surprised at how quiet it’s been since Gordon and Florence brushed by. Before those storms were in our vicinity, the blackbirds were gathering in large flocks and the geese were traveling and honking overhead. I haven’t heard any geese at all lately, and I don’t know what happened to all the blackbirds. The only birds I’ve heard in the mornings are the crows, a few pileated woodpeckers, and the bald eagles. The frogs, crickets, and cicadas make up the bulk of the morning chorus now.
That’s about it from me on this confused Friday. The day started out clear and sunny and beautiful. Then dark clouds rolled in. Now it appears to be clearing up again. It might be worth the trip out to the Point to watch the sunset. It’s scheduled for 7:04 PM. Meet me there about ten or fifteen minutes before that if you want to join me on a short walk. How short it will be depends on the tide. I noticed this morning that high tide is creeping up higher than usual. That’s probably due to how close we are to the full moon (on the 24th).
Be good, be kind, be loving. Just Be. 🙂 And thank you for stopping by.
A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy: 836) Cooler mornings. 837) The call of the pileated woodpecker. 838) The hopping dance of the frogs that are near the ditches where I walk. 839) Watching the fish jumping around in the creek this morning. 840) Communing with the trees.