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A distinct shift. A change in the atmosphere. And grey, darkened skies linger, as rain and wind become the prominent feature of our days. This swansong of summer is predictably swimming in water because the UK tends to get a final flare of heat, followed by thunderstorms and a deluge of rain.
But we can still remember the golden days, the evocative scents, if we try.Let us think back or dig deep into our memories. I’m relying more on those childhood ones which always seem to stand out stronger than the others. Those endless, grace-laced summer days where anything felt possible and amusing ourselves was work enough to do.
“It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.” — Maud Hart Lovelace
Concoction
In the garden, roses swell
like tea cups without handles,
frothy flowers eagerly spilling
over themselves, with some
drooping low to the ground.
I touch the tender petals,
marvel at their fragility,
while my stubby fingers
reach to pull them off—but only
the dying, little ones, of course.
Because I know my father
keeps a careful eye on
these, his pride and joy,
but my eyes are seeing
their potential for gathering.
Packing them tight into a jam jar,
heedless of the crush and mess,
ready to escort into our
house, to add some water.
A few drops. A shake. A finger
wet with shameful evidence
of rose gathering. A nose
wrinkling to try to catch the scent.
My homemade perfume
is faintly redolent
of summer hues, of grass
and leaves, with a slight
resemblance to a muddy brew.
“Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” — Henry James
I hope you have enjoyed my memoir poetry. What is the tail end of summer looking like for you? What special memories help to keep the scent, the lightness of it alive? I’d love you to share below. 🙂 ❤
“Who is like you, Lord God Almighty? You, Lord, are mighty, and your faithfulness surrounds you. You rule over the surging sea; when its waves mount up, you still them.” — Psalm 89:8-9 NIV
Each summer I yearn to go to the coast, inhale the ozone and watch waves rise, foam and fall. It would be such a soothing sight, calming and restorative to my soul.Who wouldn’t want to sit, observe (people-watch) and breathe in the view or swim and be cradled by lapping water and get wet through? Even a virtual non-swimmer like me relishes such thoughts.
Sadly, the limitations of having M.E and chronic illness, including impaired mobility, hypersensitivity to light, a pain-filled, uncooperative body that doesn’t cope well with exertion, humidity or heat, coupled with travel-induced fatigue, and Raynaud’s Syndrome causing shivers and blanching at the slightest sea breeze, make it rather problematical for me now.
Instead, I remember times past, decades ago, when I was able to enjoy watching waves without those restrictions. We spent several hot summer days on the local beaches, getting sand in our sandwiches, paddling or swimming in the sea, playing games with the children, and marvelling at our suntanned faces and limbs. Now I muse on waves as a poet might do because they have such great symbolism too.
The wave we need
We are paddling furiously
as if it all depends on us,
not on the tide or the rhythm
of the sea. Fearing falling,
we forget to lean
into the waves, forget
to check our position
and what we might have
to depend on. Forget, too,
to relax our bodies
into suppleness,
cut ourselves some slack.
Instead, we waver,
like uncertain skittles,
wobble around,
choke, sink close
to drowning. Until we hear
a calming voice calling,
speaking softly
to our souls, then more
urgently than before. His voice
rises clearly above and cuts
across the choppy waters,
urging us to let him be
If you, like me, would appreciate a reminder of hearing waves breaking on the seashore, maybe this short sea breathing technique video from former M.E sufferer, meditation author and creative communicator Liz Babbs will help, and relax your soul. 🙂 ❤
We’re having a mini heatwave in the UK. A skin-drenching scorcher few of us feel ready for. Because we’ve barely got over having layers of snow and a cool blue feeling in our souls.
We often choose colours that represent certain things to us. Blue is usually considered to be the colour of slowing down, a precursor to experiencing calm, harmony and rest. It’s also associated with stability and depth, piety and sincerity. It’s indicative of loyalty, trust, wisdom, intelligence, faith, and all things sky and heaven related.
On a hot day our skin can protest at sun’s fiery rays, emotions can rise and the change can feel destabilising and unsettling until we get used to it or have been eagerly anticipating its arrival for months.
So I thought I would keep things light today and share a trio of haiku with you to maintain the cool, calm and collected feelings of blue instead of the fiery heat that summer can bring to us. The first image is from a view we had out of the car window while travelling home after spending Christmas with the family.
One thing that never goes out of season is gratitude. Those who practice it are often blessed with joy and peace, even in challenging circumstances. Because it lifts our eyes off what might be limiting and confining, expands our hearts to appreciate life’s little things and causes us to be thankful for what we have.
It wouldn’t really be summer without thinking about cool, clear water, seas and oceans. Sometimes we can savour marine life on our doorstep by visiting a sea life or marine wildlife centre in our locality.
Whatever your personal preference and whatever the weather is like where you live, I hope you have enjoyed this small pause to savour a tiny of poetry and think longingly of cool blue days or happily anticipate the heat of summer to come.
PS: In case you are curious, here’s a link to the meaning usually attributed to certain colours. 🙂
It feels like summer has shied away from these shores. The days of sitting in a park reading a book seem long gone, unless we have our jeans and jackets on.
Maybe the UK gives it a chilly welcome to start with because it’s all so strange to us.
But we still have a deep appreciation for how it makes us feel.
For a few short weeks or months (if we are lucky) we can bathe in its rays. Allow skin to absorb some natural vitamin D. Let clothing and mood be light.
Make pretend we have days without end to linger, lounge and let loose. Night comes late and light seeps slow away.
Then just as we begin to stop moaning about the heat and start to enjoy the mediterranean-style food, feasting and feelings, it lifts its skirts and runs away.
Such is the position now.
August has been dire. All dirty rain, drear and gloom.
But hey, we Brits are made of stern stuff. We know how to laugh in the gales and smile through the showers, don’t we?
Or sit and reflect on season’s passing, as we enter a new season to live, love, learn and laugh at the days to come.
Or compose poetry that imagines the summer that never was. The one that got away, though we never did.
So here, in a last-ditch attempt to enjoy the season, I offer no deep thoughts or reflection today.
No, this is just a simple summery scene from the senses in gratitude for a gift of grace that often fades as swift as our tans. Though maybe a final flurry will warm our hearts before Autumn sets in.
Just because… life is too short to mourn what is lost and not embrace what lies ahead. And that’s a lesson for me as I slide ever closer toward a new decade and a new season to enjoy.
I love the long, sunny days but I’m fazed and frazzled by heat-waves. Maybe you too?
It’s too hot to think straight, write eloquently (or much at all, truth be told) or be active in any way.
I’ve been taking a social media and blogging break which I desperately needed.
My health has been challenging for some time, with increased weakness, pain and fatigue, so rest and recuperation remain my top priority.
And as I recover some strength, pacing my ‘activities’ carefully, I want to just touch base with you as a way of making a gradual return to my usual routines.
I’m largely housebound with M.E and chronic illness, and going on holiday is a distant dream, but there’s no harm in taking myself there by the power of imagination.
Which is what I have done with the poetic summer snippets below that were written some time ago.
I share them now as a way to say “Hi. I’m still here”, even though I may be struggling with feeling further flattened by the heat and humidity we have now in the UK!
You are not forgotten and I miss our conversations here.
Hope the weather is suiting you, wherever you are, and you can make the most of warm, sunny days.
Poetry Joy 