Tag Archives: summer

Summer Encampment

Matt's visit June 2014 013


Shades of the old country I have only known through literature:  my living room filled with family, the encampment of the Olympians (a.k.a  Sequimmers) lasted for three days.  Shades drawn or opened, we rested and rallied in plMatt's visit June 2014 008easant self-directed cycles reminding me of the “nap room” in the old house in Batavia where as tired grandchildren we slithered under light blankets,  the slats of double-tiered wooden shutters  unfolded and drawn closed in a startling clackity-clack to block the light of mid-afternoon.

My brother’s wife dead-headed our roses and planted petunias with her quiet attention to green; gifted me with berries

and tools so that we could make jam together; and voiced her appreciation of the good food generously and often, her smile full of light.  My little brother walked in and breathed a sigh, three times expressing his pleasure in the calm and comfort of my home; ventured out with my spouse for maple bars and fresh donuts which he ate with gusto; and  shared recipes as together we concocted a fresh apricot and olive chicken. Their lovely daughter entranced the dog (a mutual admiration), prepped veggies with me, and watched her dad closely as he and I walked back in time through the haunts of our earlier lives.

We sent them off this morning with a sheaf of poems, a flat of tomato plants, my husband’s landscape photograph from Egegik, and a disc of dog clips which threaten to inspire a launch of The Red Dog Blog.Their gift of peace rose blossoms in the jelly jar at the table mark an opening for continued conversations.

Sally's Peace roses 001





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Profusion of Roses

Roses June 2014 002


In my part of the country, my part of the state, the flowering trees rage into spring and early summer in generous blankets of color, always a welcome sight after the uniform overcast of winter.  But this spring and early summer, the roses have it.  Our rash of warm and sunny days has inspired extensive blooming; sprays of blossoms taller than a man hang over fences or climb garden walls.  My garden’s small contribution has expanded to four varieties and all of them are very happily opening and opening as if that is what they were meant to do.

For myself, this extra ration of sun so early in the season has spurred me on unexpectedly. I fling myself pell-mell into a full bouquet of expanding projects, eat late, and get to sleep even later, wondering where the time went.  I know this feeling well.  I remember the power surge of the summer light when I lived in the far north, all that yang energy coursing though my veins like a drug I couldn’t get enough of.  And, as the consecutive winters took their toll, the contrast between “dormancy” and “awake” grew even greater.  I  moved to the northwest to find some moderation, but not this season.  The roses are singing and I hum along in harmony; I am fluent in rose.