The most beautiful of seasons—the rich mellow days of late summer. The perfect sun, dropping just those few moment’s earlier, setting the world aflame, bathing us all in the pinkest light until the big silver moon turns us inward.

And, of course, these are the harvest days. The gift inside the shell, the reward for the sacrifice, and, indeed the sacrifice in itself. And after the difficulty, the reward.

~ Ms. P on Lake Huron

~ We 3 on the big lake feeling wholly radiant.

I quote from a message I wrote to Katie -
” Just returned from the wilds of Michigan…It was so very bittersweet driving those long and empty country roads, the familiar sights from childhood spent on the big lake in summer…. and nothing changes there. The hand painted signs advertising fresh bait and cold beer, the creaking sand strewn wooden steps up to the the dunes, the smell of fresh green and the glorious beauty of heavy white cumulus clouds dancing their shapes into my soul….” The seeds of childhood bearing fruit.

And then the pleasure of coming back home. To my life, my dog, my work, my sweet little chaotic world. And the sudden explosion of the garden. Seeds sown so long ago, faithfully coming to fruition. Holy radiance.

~Brandywine beauties

~O-kay?

Summer sounds {or what you would hear if I loudly speeded past you in the Mean Green Machine}

——-It’s the little surprises that keep the sun shining in our hearts. The little things that are really so very grand. That make us feel loved. That keep us sailing along, side by side, despite the waves and woes of life.