“Instead of going to heaven at last,

I’m going all along.” —Emily Dickinson

There's an exuberance to summer that I find exhilarating.  There is a heightened intensity to everything---the garden joyfully moves from whispering "have patience, I'm growing..." to shouting gleefully "look at me! look at me!"

Modesty gives way to boastful coneflowers taking center stage in my garden, growing by leaps and bounds, the cheerful yellow coreopsis tries to rival the sun, and my daylilies are joyfully reminding us all why we love summer so much.

What's not to love about a beautiful weekend morning, sitting on the deck with a cold glass of iced tea, droplets of condensation running down the glass and plopping onto my bare legs, while a mother cardinal pecks at seeds in my purple salvia and a robin cools off in the now "secret" birdbath?

I hope all of you had a chance to dance in the sunshine, sip a cool drink in the shade and rejoice in a world of beauty this past weekend.  I recently came across this poem by Michael Escoubas, which shows that this poet enjoys his garden as much as I do mine.

Towel and Basin

This morning I plodded in pajamas

and bare toes toting my full water pitcher,

prepared as an offering for my

hanging blue Fan plant. The tall

grass washed my feet as Jesus might.

I was met by a congregation

of glad-handed Hostas greeting

and touching me, choirs of Clematis

robed in purple, jovial Jonquils clad in yellow,

sun-facing Spiderworts, and sweet green Mint

mingled with spicy Oregano, breathing

their fragrances, glistening and glowing

in sunlight and dew.

They danced when they saw me;

asked no questions, made no judgments,

anointed me with dew, toweled my dusty

feet with warm sun, then sent me on

to do for another what they had done for me.

May you have a lovely start to your week!