I cannot even tell you with words known to mankind how much I love summer.
Yeah, yeah. It's hot. And if I didn't live in the luxury of an air-conditioned house and an air-conditioned car that shuttles me back and forth from one air-conditioned shelter to another, I am sure I would sing a different song.
But because I do live in the luxury of protection from the hot, I am free to indulge in all of the coat-free, sock-free, shiver-free, icy-wind-that-takes-your-breath-away-free goodness that is summer.
I especially love summer mornings outside with my girls. Armed with a cup of coffee and paper and pen, I take them outside first thing when everything is still cool and dewy. I dig my toes into the grass and jot notes for the day while they swing on the porch swing and dig in the dirt. The neighbor's cat who is the absolute personification of glutton for punishment comes over and satisfies the girls' relentless neeeeeeeed for a pet.
Eventually the sun chases us to the shadows of our westward-facing backyard where I tend to the compost pile and sweep the concrete slab we call a porch and more dirt is dug and plants are watered and feathers are collected and cicada shells are plucked all while the birds and crickets chirp.
It's pretty much glorious.
My summer lovin' spirit senses the inevitable shortening of days, and so I try to capture as much as I can. In the same way my green-thumbed friends are "putting up" their produce to last them through the winter ahead, I'm putting up pictures and memories of these ripe, juicy mornings.
Here's to preserving.
Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. James 1:17 (NAS)