Today is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. In my younger days this time of year was always one of anticipation and hope. I finally was free of the confines of school, the rivers were running strong and cold and clear, and high country meadows were all ablaze with dandelion yellow. The whole summer lay ahead of me, a reservoir brimming with possibility: the energy of the late-July monsoon, those endless lavender dusks, alpine wildflower explosions, the gurgle of water in the ditches, swinging in the park when the sprinklers come on, the ecstacy of an August love affair.
I’m a lot older now and “school,” or work, doesn’t end with the onset of summer anymore. The feelings of anticipation has mellowed, but it still bubbles up around this time of year, in spite of the fact that the rivers aren’t so strong and clear and the mountain meadows are literally ablaze and the monsoon is a pale shadow of what it once was. It’s still a time to embrace the possible, to revel in love, to walk barefoot through the cool prickly grass on those lavender-hued evenings, to love without restraint.
Now it’s your turn: Tell me about what Summer Solstice (or just this time of year in general, or the Fourth of July, or what have you) means to you. But first, a little request for you to consider forking out just five bucks a month to …
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So have at it: Tell me what Summer Solstice means to you.
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